


Yawny at the Apocalypse

by Rheynin



Category: Fallout 4, Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Blood, Blood and Gore, Crossover, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, Group Sex, Heavy Angst, Idiots in Love, Multi, Other, Platonic Cuddling, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyandry, Shameless Smut, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, fake married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 81,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheynin/pseuds/Rheynin
Summary: Arthur Morgan was a man in trouble with the law.Ezra Noble was a woman with more debt than she could handle.When Vault-Tec approached each of them, offering them a way out, they took it. Now they’re two centuries in the future, in a world neither of them understands.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Sole Survivor, Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Deacon & Female Sole Survivor, Deacon/Female Sole Survivor, Mama Murphy & Female Sole Survivor, Preston Garvey & Female Sole Survivor, Preston Garvey & Sole Survivor, sole survivor/Arthur morgan
Comments: 36
Kudos: 79





	1. Arthur

**Author's Note:**

> It’s killing me that I haven’t finished this, but I have absolutely lost the flash of inspiration that I usually have when I’m writing. However, I have the basic story outlined, so I am going to write it anyway.
> 
> It’s probably going to suck. A lot.
> 
> But I want anyone who’s been interested in this story to have a sense of closure. And, just maybe, I can go back and edit later and turn it into what it deserves.

“You’re a wanted man, Mr Morgan.”

Those were the words that had changed his life. One goddamn slip, and he was caught, taken in and kept locked away. Of course they didn’t believe he had no idea where Dutch and the rest had gone, that they’d left him for dead. He’d only barely managed to drag himself to safety, and spent ages living in that cabin, trying to get himself healthy again. Once he had, he figured one trip into town, to get some supplies before he left for Canada, would be safe.

He’d been wrong.

Apparently, as the lieutenant (former lieutenant, he’d argued) of the Van der Linde gang, he was too valuable of an asset to waste. Keep him locked away, out of sight, and surely the big man, Dutch himself, would come looking. He hadn’t. By the time they’d realized that, the public didn’t care about the gang anymore, so making a public show of his execution wouldn’t have made them the money they’d hoped, the sick bastards. That’s what you get when you privatize law enforcement. Just legal gangs, with the dangerous attitude that since they enforced the law, they were above it.

He supposed he should’ve been glad that it had spared him the execution, but somehow, looking at where he was, he couldn’t quite bring himself to that bit of gratitude. From where he was, that torture, or flogging, or public dismemberment, or whatever other sick shit they could dream up, might’ve been the better option.

They had to recoup the money somehow. It had been expensive, chasing the gang all over the country, and they’d only gotten a poorly attended torture session before Sean had been rescued, and an “execution” that lasted less than ten minutes from Mac. That’s why they were holding out for Dutch, hoping that he and Arthur together would bring a big crowd, maybe even get a television deal. When it didn’t materialize, they got in contact with Vault-Tec.

Vault-Tec was known throughout the country, an elite group of scientists and engineers, but no one was really sure exactly what they did. The official word was that they built bomb shelters, mostly militarized installations to be sure that whatever came, the world would survive. Everyone knew there was more to it than that. It was a shadowy secret, whispered in the dark of night out of the fear they’d take you, but it was there. They were always on the cutting edge, running experiments to “enhance the lives of the people”, but, somehow, the results were never published. A great philanthropic agency, but you never saw the results, and the questions went unanswered. Most figured it was probably better that way.

It’s certainly what Arthur had thought. Then came the day they took him out of solitary. He’d figured that whatever was coming was better than the year and a half of white silence he’d endured, even if it was death. He still remembered the stark walls, the coldness of the metal table underneath his hands. That cold had nothing on the coldness that seized his body when those white coats had walked in, all glasses and condescending smiles.

He tensed as they sat in front of him, knowing whatever was about to happen wasn’t going to work in his favor. They didn’t even speak for a while, just let him stare at them, at those creepy-ass smiles. Two men, one on each end, and a woman in the middle, short and plump. Bland, all three of them. Maybe it was by design. 

It was the woman who spoke, a cheery, birdlike voice that didn’t match her face. God, she sounded like she should run a preschool, not a group of scientists.

“Mr Morgan. We’re here today to make you an offer.” 

He waited, saying nothing. With a disappointed sigh, she continued.

“Your captors, these . . . Pinkertons? They no longer wish to deal with you. To be frank, you are costing them money, money they will never see returned. They contacted us in the hopes that we might find you useful, and be willing to give them a fraction of the money they’ve lost on you and your fellow . . . gangsters. Is that the right word?”

She knew damn well it wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of correcting that.

“The fact is, Mr Morgan, by sheer coincidence, we actually have an experiment that you would be perfect for. Contrary to popular belief, we aren’t cruel, heartless figures with no care for those we work with. In addition to paying the Pinkertons for your release, we will compensate you for your . . . work.”

She reached down, pulling out a thin stack of papers.

“The nature of our work is secret, for good reason. We’ve come up with scientific advancements that other countries can’t begin to even imagine. As such, if you should choose to participate, you will have to sign a non disclosure agreement. This one is a bit more stringent than most you’ll see, I admit, but, as I said, we have good reason to be so cautious.”

She pushed the papers towards him, then pulled out another stack.

“You would be needed for a period of approximately five years. After that, you will be free. No prison, no records. Arthur Morgan will be, as far as the world knows, a fine upstanding gentleman who’s never put a toe out of line. And, as I said before, if you choose to participate, you will be compensated fairly.”

Five years of science experiments, and he was a free man? It didn’t sound too bad. Worth considering, anyway. There was just one question.

“Why don’t you tell me what ‘fair compensation’ is, exactly?”

She arched an eyebrow, apparently surprised he’d thought to ask the question. If they were in the habit of approaching criminals, he could imagine they’d hardly care if they got paid at all. It had to be better than being hashed out in front of the public, left to rot or be carried away by stray dogs.

“I couldn’t give you an exact figure. Because of the volatile nature of the market, we prefer to calculate your compensation at the end of your service. Trust me when I say that it will be sufficient to restart your life.”

Arthur leaned back, letting his cuffed hands rest in his lap.

“What if I decide I don’t wanna work with you?”

“We will leave, and you won’t hear from us again. As I understand it, your captors put out feelers with several other companies. I doubt you will find another that’s willing to compensate you, as well as the Pinkertons, and I doubt that another company will be as willing to make you comfortable as we are.”

“If I say yes?”

“Then you will sign the papers I’ve laid in front of you. Once that’s done, we’ll see that you’re released, and you’ll travel with us to your assigned facility. Your five year service will begin immediately.”

Arthur thought over everything he’d been told. Five years. No record. Enough money for a fresh start. If it had been anyone but Vault-Tec, he’d have jumped at the chance. It was everything he’d ever dreamed about. But Vault-Tec had the reputation it did for a reason. However good it all sounded, there was a dark side to this, and he wouldn’t know about it until it was too late to do anything about it.

Still, there weren’t a lot of other companies willing to buy prisoners. Most of the ones who did bought them to work their factories, legalized slavery in modern society. Sometimes some rich fucker would buy a prisoner or two, train ‘em to fight to the death against other guys, or maybe just keep as a “companion”. Arthur shuddered at the thought. Even prisoners deserved more dignity than that. 

He sighed. “Alright, I guess.”

The rest was a blur, maybe on purpose, or maybe his mind hadn’t been able to handle it. There were a lot of people at the facility, most of them looked to be prisoners, too. Women were taken to one area, men to another, where they were washed and given these god awful blue jumpsuits to wear. They were some sort of stretchy leather, way too tight for his preference, and that alone almost made him regret agreeing to this.

Once they were all changed, the entire group was herded into this great big room, with guards standing at every exit, blocking them from leaving. The room darkened, and suddenly a projection lit up on the front wall. A video, some egghead genius, no doubt, explaining what was going to happen, and how everything was going to work. Arthur couldn’t understand most of the science stuff, he’d never been that great at it in school. Basically, what he got out of it was that they’d all be put in some sort of artificial death, or maybe not death, because they’d wake up from time to time. The scientists would be doing something to their brains while they were out, and then check on the progress by waking them a few at a time, then putting them back under. 

He didn’t really like the idea of someone messing with his head while he was asleep, but he’d already agreed. The upside was that, despite the fact that it was five years, he’d only be aware of time passing while he was awake. That meant that five years would pass like months, or even days, maybe. Then he’d be gone, no record, plenty of money, a new man altogether. Hopefully, he’d be able to buy a farm or ranch or something. Easy, right?

Except now he was here, puking his guts out next to the tube that had been his home for the last god knows how many years. More than five, for sure, and no lab coats to tell him. No one, not even another prisoner, or specimen, whatever the hell they were supposed to be. His only companion was the smell of rotting flesh, from the decaying bodies in the other tubes, and even that hadn’t been there, at first. When he’d first gotten out, he’d walked up and down the row of tubes, trying to see if there was anyone else. A few of them, about every third one, had been smashed open, with nothing inside. Roughly the same number of tubes had been opened by force, doors ripped off of the hinges, the area around darkened with what Arthur could only assume was blood. Probably accurate, considering the piles of bones that littered the area closest to them. A scant few other tubes looked to have been opened normally, like his, from the emergency trigger mechanism on the inside. 

Some of the tubes weren’t empty at all. What was inside most of them didn’t exactly pass as human, filled with giant, grotesque bodies with green skin, or ones that looked horribly burned, bodies covered with scar tissue. The ones that did contain recognizable humans, what few were left, looked nearly untouched, and it was one of these that Arthur had made the mistake of opening. Instantly, he’d started retching. Though the body had looked almost normal, a puddle of . . . something had been waiting beneath it, and was just about the worst smelling thing he’d ever experienced. He slammed the tube closed again, vomited his guts out, and then began to explore the rest of the vault.

By the time he’d finished, he was more confused, not less. The only thing he’d found was an emergency pistol, a couple of boxes of rounds, and some giant cockroaches, bigger than his thigh. The tubes everywhere looked exactly like the ones in his section, and the only lab coats he’d found were hanging off of dusty skeletons. Other than the roaches, there was no sign of life anywhere. 

What the hell had happened?

It wasn’t any better when he got to the surface. Everything looked . . . scorched. Dead and barren, the colors dulled to nothing. And what few plants there were didn’t look anything like he remembered. Had Vault-Tec somehow dropped him on an alien planet? Or was this some kind of strange mind game?

A noise to his left stopped him, and he shifted his eyes to see what it was. Living on the run for so long had given him sharp senses, and a natural mistrust of everyone and everything. If he heard something, he naturally assumed it was out to kill him.

A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared out at him from their hiding place in the brush. Whatever it was didn’t seem the least but friendly, especially when he heard the low growl rumbling in its throat. He tensed, readying himself for the attack he knew was coming, hoping his gun would be quicker than whatever was out there.

He barely realized it had even happened until after it was over, and even then, he’d had to replay it in his mind a few times to be sure. The thing, whatever it was, has leapt at him, and from where he stood, looking out of the corner of his eye, he’d shot it. He was always good, but in his wildest dreams he’d never have tried something like that. Yet he’d done it, purely on instinct and before he’d even realized it. What had Vault-Tec done to him?

He put the question aside in favor of a much more immediate one. What the hell was that thing that had jumped at him? When he looked it over, careful not to touch it, it resembled a dog, but only vaguely. There was almost no hair on the beast, it’s skin red and patchy, stretched over a skeletal frame. The teeth were the strangest part. They were long, with little or no gums. The whole thing looked like someone had found a few bits of skeleton, patched them together, then slapped some skin on it and called it a day. Between that and the dry, dead look, Arthur felt like his nerves were on fire.

What the hell had happened to the world?


	2. Ezra

Five years. That’s all it was supposed to be. Five years, and she’d be done, no more student loans, no more scraping pennies together for a single meal of noodles to get her through the day. She’d never have to rely on anyone again.

This was not five fucking years.

A goddamn nuclear war, just after she was put in. Two hundred fucking years. Nobody she knew was even alive anymore, if you didn’t count that weird robot butler that the couple down the street had owned. He’d always given her the creeps, but when she’d gotten out, he was the only one she could find, and at least he’d filled her in, and destroyed some giant fucking bugs on top of it. 

Living in a military town, she’d known all about the vault, even as it was being built. All the military families in a twenty mile range had spots, and a few rich bastards who donated enough funding. If nukes were coming, bam, the warning signal would come through, and you had thirty minutes to arrive. Protecting the future, making sure there would always be a military. 

What she hadn’t known about were the experiments. Maintaining a vault for the possibility of nuclear war wasn’t exactly cheap, and they needed some reason to justify payroll. So the vault doubled as a secret lab, of sorts. One where they took people desperate for a little cash and willing to be guinea pigs.

The invitation came in the form of a knock, unexpected at ten in the morning on a weekday, when she was getting ready for work. She’d been picking up as many extra shifts as she could, trying to catch up on the bills that had fallen behind during the divorce. The goddamn pig had left her with everything behind, while he took the money he’d earned and ran. Guess since he’d gotten his business off the ground and profitable, he didn’t need her any more.

When she’d opened the door, there was this guy in a trench coat, and some lady with glasses and a tight bun on her head. They’d asked to come in, but the lady pushed past before Ezra could answer, making herself at home in the sparse living room.

“I understand you’re divorced? Mounting debt, caused by a callous, selfish ex-husband? Defaulting on your student loans?”

Ezra stared, crossing her arms. “I’m sorry, but who the hell are you?”

A stiff arm extended towards her. “I’m with Vault-Tec, and we have an offer for you.”

What a bitch. No name, no explanation. Just a card, with instructions to show at the vault on the hill, and that was it. 

Ten others had showed, sitting in those stiff chairs as they’d had the offer explained to them in rosy terms. Vault-Tec was great at making it seem like the perfect solution to whatever problem you had, and, despite her nagging doubts, Ezra had signed on. What a fucking mistake that had been. Of the eleven, she was the only one living. The poor bastard in the middle had it worst. Whatever they’d been trying to do to him had been a disaster. His skin was bubbly and green, either from whatever they’d done or from the rotting, and his face was twisted and deformed, his teeth too big for his mouth. She really hoped he hadn’t been aware of it as it had happened, because that would have been terrifying. 

She’d spent three days holed up in a house in Sanctuary, letting that butler, Codsworth, bring her food and get her up to speed on everything that had happened. The food tasted like shit, but she couldn’t really expect anything else after two hundred years. It was concerning enough that the food had survived that long. Ugh. If they weren’t already dead, she could kill the bastards who’d destroyed everything like this. Ruined a perfectly good world.

On the fourth day, she’d thought to ask him about other survivors, either from other vaults, or ones who’d been above ground, and he’d pointed her to Concord. It was nearby, and he’d heard noises from that direction from time to time, though he’d never ventured that far. Before she left, he handed her a pistol and a machete, then warned her that the world wasn’t as “civilized” as she remembered. 

“Strangely, Codsworth, I’d figured that out by the giant bugs. Any other advice?”

“Try not to die, Ms Ezra.”

Until she reached the edge of Concord, the most threatening thing she’d come across was a giant mosquito. Terrifying, but a lucky swipe with the machete had taken it out quickly. It was a different story in the city altogether. She’d been walking quietly, already afraid of attracting more stupid bugs or something worse, and stopped at the side of a house when she heard some voices in the distance. A quick peek showed her a group of five people, heavily armed and headed right towards her. Something about the way they carried themselves told her these probably weren’t people she wanted to ask for help, but there was nowhere for her to go without ending up in their path. 

With her heart pounding, she watched them moving closer and closer. She had the pistol, but she’d never shot a gun in her life, and it seemed like a bad time to start. The machete she could handle, but between their guns and their armor, they’d take her down well before she could get them. Her palms itched with nervousness, wanting to just be active and DO something. Waiting for what might be death seemed like a bad idea.

Suddenly, each of them fell, one by one, before any of them could react. Panic gripped Ezra as she crouched in the grass. Someone had just killed five people, and there she was, easily the sixth. As the blood pooled around their heads, she waited, but nothing came. She’d just started to relax and think about moving when a large hand wrapped around her face, covering her mouth and pulling her inside of the house she’d been beside, through a door that had just been locked. She was thrown roughly to the floor, banging her elbow against a chair, and a tall man with big, broad shoulders loomed over her. He seemed to take her in for a second, then squatted down before her, speaking in a harsh whisper.

“What the hell are you thinking, coming through like that? And in a goddamn vault suit, too! Are you trying to get yourself killed by Raiders?” 

At the look of utter terror on her face, he softened a little.

“Look, stay right here for a minute. I wanna help you, but right now I gotta get those bodies dealt with. Just . . . don’t move.”

She nodded, then watched as he slipped out the door. While she waited, she drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. If he knew what the suit she wore was, it meant that either he’d come from one, or at least knew about them. Maybe he could tell her something. He’d killed those people, after all, and not her, so she was, at the very least, more valuable alive, and safe, for now.

When he came back, she opened her mouth to ask a question, but he shook his head and put a finger to his lips. She stayed quiet, unmoving, for what seemed like forever. Then she heard voices.

“Where the hell are they, man? They were supposed to meet us here.”

“You know them. Impatient assholes. Probably took off ahead, hoping to put back a few choice chems for themselves.”

The voices passed right by the window, and then disappeared in the distance. When they’d been gone for several minutes, the man came over, squatting beside her on the floor. He looked her over with interest, like he was searching for something, but evidently he’d been disappointed, or at least given up. Then he opened his mouth, and she was surprised at the rich, gravelly baritone that came out.

“You from a vault, or you stupid enough to steal that suit and wear it around?”

“What the fuck is wrong with it?”

“Vault then. Otherwise you’d know wearing it’s just asking for trouble. People see that, they’ll assume you’re a goddamn idiot.”

“And you’re so fucking smart?”

“You gonna keep insulting the man that just saved your ass? If I hadn’t killed those Raiders, they’d have found you, and made you their personal guest. That ain’t something you want, sweetheart.”

“Not your sweetheart.”

He sighed. This was draining what little patience he had. 

“Got a name then?”

“Ezra.”

“I’m Arthur. Look, I’m guessing you ain’t been out long, or you’d have learned by now. I used to be in a vault, too. Only got out a couple months ago, but I know a few things. You trust me, I’ll help you get on your feet.”

“For what?”

“Suspicious. Okay. That’ll probably do you good out here.” He sighed again, rocked back on his heels for a second. “If you been in a vault, then it’s likely you were from before. Me too. I ain’t met nobody else from then, and it’d be nice to have the company, somebody else who remembers the world before it went to shit.”

She nodded. That was something she hadn’t thought of, but she could imagine it would get depressing, being the only person to remember the greens, the sweet smells. Everything now smelled like sewage. To have someone else who did, even if you couldn’t share it again, would be comforting. It would keep you from feeling crazy.

“I’m guessing the first lesson in Arthur’s survival school is to lose the vault suit, so what am I supposed to wear? None of my clothes managed to survive, sadly.”

He brought out a small selection of clothing, from t-shirts and jeans to army fatigues to jumpsuits. Most of it ran huge, scavenged with his own needs in mind, but the jumpsuit was decent. Apparently he’d gotten it for the fabric, not to wear, so it fit passably well. Once she’d changed, she returned to where he sat.

“You’ll need to learn to shoot, and from as far as possible. There’s not enough room or quiet for that here. You can handle that machete?”

“Enough.”

He nodded. “Good. For now, I’ll stick with you, watch your back, until you can handle yourself. What’s your plan?”

“I just wanna find some people. Someplace safe, inhabited by more than giant bugs and mutated dogs.”

“Ain’t no place really safe anymore, but I can see you right. We’ll get you to a settlement somewhere, find you some friends.”

“So what are you doing?”

He froze. “That’s sorta personal. Look, no offense, but I ain’t exactly prone to sharing my private life.”

But he expected her to be forthcoming, she thought bitterly. Still,he’d saved her life and promised to help her, so she decided to cut him a little slack. Pushing her thick, dark hair out of her face, she watched him take apart his guns one at a time, carefully cleaning them. There was a practiced ease about his movements, a familiarity that took years to develop, but his manner was too warm to be military. He could have been a prepper, maybe, but he didn’t seem to have the paranoia or know everything attitude. That meant that he was likely either a criminal, or a cop, and he was acting too kind to be a cop.

That would explain his reluctance to talk about things. She opted to keep that information to herself for now, asking him instead about his guns, letting him explain all of the parts and their purpose, and how to keep them in good working order. He seemed surprised when she caught on quickly, getting a step ahead of him in the explanations. To be honest, it had taken her by surprise too. It just seemed . . . logical. Once she saw the pieces, it was easy to work out what went where, and what purpose it served.

By the time evening fell, they’d worked through each of his weapons, from the silenced and easily concealed 10mm to his sniper rifle. He didn’t use electric weapons, though they were easily available, he said, because he didn’t trust them, or trust himself to fix them. He understood mechanics, not technology. Ezra thought that seemed like pretty sound reasoning. If you were cornered, and your weapon broke, you wanted to know you could deal with it, not be left at its mercy.

They slept in a bedroom upstairs, with Arthur insisting she take the mattress, and he’d use the sleeping bag. He assured her he’d set plenty of traps, and wedged a chair beneath the door, so they were plenty safe. They lay for several minutes of quiet, then Ezra asked what she’d wanted since she found out he was from before.

“Arthur? What do you miss most, living in this world?”

He sighed, taking a long time to think before he answered.

“Everything.”


	3. Liberty or Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Graphic Violence Ahead*

“So, Arthur. I have a question.” He nodded once, giving an affirmative hum. “How’d you end up in the vault?”

The two were sat on the floor in the little house they’d spent the night in, eating a makeshift breakfast of carrots, beans, and water. Not much, and it tasted nothing like the food she remembered, but it filled the stomach, anyway.

“You first.”

She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t that she hadn’t expected it, because she had. It was just that she kept getting the feeling that he was intentionally trying to hold back, to let her front all of the personal information, while he got to be mysterious and secretive. Sure, he was (supposedly) going to teach her some survival skills, so she owed him something, but she didn’t want the flow of information to be totally one sided. If they were going to be spending a decent amount of time together, she wanted to know something about him, besides his name.

“I . . . well, I’d gotten married, real young. So in love, he was my soulmate, all that bullshit. Ended up supporting him so he could ‘build his dream business’, and he promised me I’d never have to work again. Only, once his business got good and profitable, he decided that he’d rather not give me a piece of it. Got a divorce, but I still had a house to pay for, payments on a stupid shitty car he’d convinced me to finance for way too long, and god knows how much student loan debt. I bet those assholes are still charging me interest.” She kicked at a pile of trash, sending dust flying. “Anyway, I was behind on everything, about to lose the goddamn house, and here comes Vault-Tec. Only a few years, and I’d be good to go. I knew it was a mistake. Then again, if I’d refused, I wouldn’t have gotten to see the wonder that is the future!”

She gave an exaggerated smile, gesturing at the dilapidated house. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh. She may be here, in a world that would put nightmares to shame, but at least she still had her sense of humor.

“So,” she nodded at him, “your turn.”

He sighed, then leaned back against a chair. “Not too different from you, I guess. I got into some trouble, they promised to get me out of it.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “ . . . And? That’s all I get?”

Clearing his throat, he sat up straighter. “Told you. It’s kinda personal. Anyway, we’d best clear out if we’re gonna make it someplace decent by nightfall.”

They hadn’t gone far when there was the sound of yelling, followed by rapid gunfire. Arthur pushed Ezra down and behind a building, pulling out his gun and blocking her.

“Ah, shit! More goddamn Raiders.”

He turned and squatted down, gesturing Ezra to follow him down winding alleys until, finally, there was nowhere else to go. They’d made it down the side of what Ezra was pretty sure was the old Museum of Freedom, but every path out was blocked by Raiders yelling taunts at an upper window of the museum. Arthur was cursing and breathing hard, scanning constantly for a weak point. 

Suddenly three Raiders were shot in quick succession, distracting the few who didn’t immediately run for cover. Arthur took advantage, jumping forward and taking out most of the remaining Raiders. He was near the front steps of the museum by then, Ezra right behind him, and was about to run with her to the next building when a voice called out.

“Hey! We’re stuck in here. Grab that laser rifle and help us out!”

Ezra didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the gun lying on the ground beside the dead body, barely registering the strange, old-fashioned clothes it wore, and ducked through the doorway. Cursing her and everything else, Arthur followed. He wasn’t about to let her tear in and die, no matter how willing she seemed to be.

Once they were inside, he pulled her into a dark, sheltered corner. By his quick count, there were three to four Raiders posted on the jagged remnants of the upper floors. Probably more farther up and in. She couldn’t shoot worth a damn, and he couldn’t take them all and still watch out for her. If she could follow, and was plenty quiet, they might be able to sneak past them. But only if they were very, very lucky.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He hissed, looming over her. “You can’t even use a damn gun!”

Her eyes were cold and filled with fury as she answered him.

“You’re gonna run off and fucking leave these people who need help? Why? If you helped me, help them!” She shoved the gun at him. “If I can’t use the gun, you use it.” Then she squatted, running around the corner in the shadows and leaving Arthur to follow her.

He had to admit, she was quiet, slipping from one spot of darkness to the next with hardly a sound. She was careful to edge around any corner, listening first, and then moved like a cat to the next shadow. If he hadn’t been frightened for both of their lives, he’d have said it was beautiful to watch. As it was, he was holding his breath, hoping like hell he didn’t have to see her brains paint the walls.

At the edge of the last doorway, she leaned carefully outward, the pulled back quickly, turning to him. She held up two fingers, then pointed upwards and outwards, suggesting that there were two on the second level, one on each side. He nodded, then took a quick look to confirm it. In order to get to the upper floor, they were going to have to go up a flight of steps that took them about five feet behind one of the Raiders. That meant that they were going to have to be extremely quiet and even more lucky, or both of them would have to be taken out before they could proceed.

He gestured for her to switch sides with him, which she did readily. Looking at it, he was pretty sure that he could take both out without being noticed by either. The problem was that he was dead certain they weren’t the only Raiders in the building. He might not be able to see any more, but he’d seen at least one looking out on the top floor, and he couldn’t be sure of where they were. If they noticed the others fall, they’d know someone was inside and gunning for them, and that could make the entire operation much more difficult.

Arthur took a deep breath, then carefully equipped his pistol, adding a silencer. There was no need to take chances, after all, and the sound of a gunshot from inside would almost certainly be noticed. He looked towards Ezra, making sure she was ready to run, and then aimed. Both fell in rapid succession, making almost no noise. There were no shouts, no sudden rustling or heavy footsteps. 

Both of them took off quickly, with Arthur keeping Ezra tucked beside him. He got the distinct feeling she was a bit annoyed at his caution for her, but thankfully she was aware it wasn’t exactly the right time for an argument. As they passed by a table on the landing, she paused, leaning back to grab a knife that was resting on it. She kept it gripped tight as they moved forward, until, finally, they reached the third floor. 

She tucked herself tightly in the darkest shadow she could find, putting a finger to her lips. As she cocked her head to listen, Arthur did the same, and heard two distinct voices. One male, one female, and they were close. She moved to edge along the wall but Arthur stopped her. If they were as close as they sounded, he didn’t want her to be the first in the line of fire. He’d taken a few bullets in his lifetime, and he was wearing armor. She wasn’t.

He was more than a little glad for that when the owner of the male voice stepped abruptly around the corner. Luckily, he’d gotten startled enough that Arthur managed to hit him in the nose with the butt of his gun, blinding him long enough for Arthur to get a bullet in him. The woman wasn’t as easy, though. The fight had given her time to prepare, and she got in four near misses before Arthur got her in the arm. Her next shot grazed his shoulder, and she’d have gotten him good with the following shot if Ezra hadn’t tossed a book towards the wall at the front of the room, distracting her and letting Arthur get a fatal shot in. A part of him wanted to yell at her for being so damn reckless, but he was well aware of what would likely have happened if she hadn’t acted. Instead, he nodded his thanks, and the two headed up the steps to the tower.

They’d nearly reached the top when Arthur suddenly put his hand out. There was a group of voices gathered near the door to the balcony, where the man had called from. He couldn’t tell for sure how many, but there were at least three, and when he poked his head out quickly, he saw two more standing over the opening in the floor. There was a wall separating the two groups, so Arthur easily took out the two by themselves, and then a third who’d been sent to check on the noise. That left two, maybe three, all grouped at the door. They’d be focused on it, which meant they’d be less likely to notice him, but he still didn’t think he’d be fast enough to take out three. It didn’t help that his shoulder was still bleeding, hurting and distracting him. 

The bleeding was soon taken care of, as Ezra tucked a bit of fabric she’d cut off of one of the bodies downstairs into the opening on his jacket. It wouldn’t last long, but it would do for now. Then she slipped past him and to the edge of the hall, right on the opposite side of the wall from the Raiders. He watched her, his heart pounding, as she took two quick glimpses around the wall, then raised three fingers. She gestured for him to ready his gun, then she stood up. The knife she’d taken was clutched tight in her hand, at the ready, as she stood steeling her nerves. Then, she rapped an uneven rhythm on the wall.

As the first man came around the corner, she brought the knife up, plunging it into the side of his throat. Blood gushed out around it as she twisted it, gritting her teeth in concentration. The other two came around yelling, nearly tripping over the first as Ezra held his body like a shield in front of her. In three shots, Arthur had both of them down, but not before one had shoved roughly at Ezra, sending her to the edge of the gaping hole in the floor. Arthur watched with his heart in his throat as she flailed, then pitched herself forward, landing on the three Raider bodies. He was on his feet and in front of her in a flash, helping her up and looking her over.

“You okay?”

She nodded, wiping her face on the back of her sleeve and smearing the blood that was there. Arthur took a quick second to help her get as clean as he could, wiping the blood away with his palms, then cleaning them on his pants legs. He put his face close to hers, speaking as quietly as he could.

“First kill?” 

She nodded. “I’m alright. I’ll fall apart later, there’s too much to do right now.”

Then she pushed past him to knock on the door, which was answered by a man wearing the same old-fashioned clothing as the body outside had been. While he talked, she looked around the room, taking in the rag-tag group situated there. In addition to the old-timey guy, there was a rockabilly looking guy in overalls, a grumpy looking woman with dark hair who kept complaining, a despondent man, also with dark hair, and an elderly woman with glassy grey eyes. She paid almost no attention to what was being said, although she knew she should have, but her brain was still trying to process what had just happened. That is, until two words caught her attention. Her head jerked over, eyes wide with excitement.

“Power armor? You’ve got power armor?”

The rockabilly guy laughed. “I thought you might like that.”

“My uncle used to work on them,” she said, grinning. “He showed me how to use them, I know all the ins and outs.”

“Well, that’s good,” said Arthur, “because I ain’t got a clue. You got a way to use weapons in that thing?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Power armor’s great, it practically does everything for you. You just lock onto the target, set the number of shots, and it sends ‘em home. No fuss, no muss. I used to shoot targets with him, things he’d throw in the air just to let me blow up.”

“Well alright then,” said Rockabilly. “Just get that fusion core, and we’re in business.”

Though they’d prepared to find more Raiders on the way down, there were none, making getting the fusion core the easiest task so far. Once they’d returned to the group, Rockabilly, whose name she found out was actually Sturges, explained to them how to get to the power armor and what they needed them to do. On their way out, Ezra heard the glassy-eyed woman muttering.

“Careful, kid. There’s something out there, drawn by the noise, the chaos. And it is angry.”

With that cheerful snippet ringing in her ears, Ezra followed Arthur to the museum roof. They faced two more Raiders when they got there, both of which Arthur quickly took down. There were more down on the street and on neighboring roofs, but the shots were blocked by the downed vertibird that stood in front of the power armor. Since she knew how to use it, Arthur kept a lookout, shooting any Raiders he could while Ezra inserted the fusion core and stepped in.

It felt like coming home, warm memories of the past washing over her as the suit closed around her. She had to remind herself sternly that this wasn’t going to be shooting junk thrown in the air, this was life or death. In one swift motion, she tore the minigun free, stepping through the wreckage of the vertibird and facing the few Raiders left. Her rapid eye movements soon had most of them locked in as targets, the minigun mowing them down like nothing. A few took off running, and she jumped off of the roof after them, trusting the armor to break her fall.

Arthur watched from his perch on the roof as she chased them, making short work of them. When they were all dead, she turned back towards the museum, stopping by the bodies to search for anything valuable. He smiled, something like pride warming him inside as he looked on. She’d done well. He’d make sure to tell her when she got back.

He’d just turned to head inside when he heard it, although heard might have been the wrong word. The deep rumbling was something you felt, shaking beneath your feet before it ever reached your ears. He dropped the hand he had out towards the door to rush back to the edge of the roof. She was still out there in the open, right in the middle of the road, when he saw it emerging from the depths of the sewer. He hadn’t heard the warning Ezra had gotten on the way out, but if he had he would have agreed, it was definitely pissed off.

The biggest fucking deathclaw he’d ever seen, and it was headed right for Ezra.


	4. Sanctuary

Her scream as the deathclaw threw her against the building would be in his nightmares for the rest of his life. She’d laid there, crumpled against the wall, her body so still he’d thought she was dead. Even as it stomped over, screaming in her face, she didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. He was stunned, hardly able to believe her life had been snuffed out so quickly. Then, the deathclaw had turned, moving to stomp off, and she’d rolled to grab the minigun, taking it in hand and firing three short bursts straight into it’s back. Before it was on her, she ducked into the abandoned building, and Arthur watched as it screamed again, lashing at the balcony in frustration, unable to reach her.

Before it could turn again, Arthur raised his sniper rifle, aiming at it’s eyes. Either he would mortally wound it, or he would blind it, making it easier for her to escape. He managed two shots, both narrowly missing it’s eyes, only managing to enrage it and draw it towards the museum.

“Shit!” 

He jumped to the edge of the roof, intending to cross as many buildings as he could. He’d fire the whole way, at least drawing it away from her and the remaining survivors. With any luck, they’d be able to escape. Before he could leap, Ezra came out blasting the minigun again. As soon as it turned towards her, he fired as many shots as he could into any vital areas he could reach. The two of them worked together like that for who knew how long, until the beast finally fell. Between them, they’d made it look more like paste than an actual creature, but at least it wouldn’t be bothering them anymore.

By the time Ezra got back to the museum, everyone inside had gathered near the front doors. She stepped out of the power armor, everyone gathering around her in congratulations. Arthur soon joined them, smiling and clapping her on the back.

“Thought I lost you a couple times, there.”

She gave him a crooked smile. “Not a chance. But I think the core’s dead. I can move in it, but it’ll be slow, and I can’t use the targeting system. I’ll have to find another core.”

After introductions were made, Ezra and Arthur were invited to join the others in Sanctuary, where they’d been heading. Since that was where Ezra was going anyway, she agreed. Arthur didn’t really have a reason to decline, so he opted to come as well. Besides, he was starting to get mighty curious about Ezra.

The trip was a short one, but felt longer to Ezra from the effort of moving the power armor. Between that, the tension of sneaking up to the survivors in the museum, and the terror of the fight with the deathclaw, she felt as if she had nothing left in her. In her view, it had been less than a week ago that she’d agreed to be part of a secret Vault-Tec experiment. Now she was two hundred years in the future, the planet in ruins, and it looked like the dinosaurs had decided to make a stunning comeback. What a fucking week.

She’d forgotten about the blood until she stepped out of the power armor, looking down to see her body covered in the stiff coppery remnants. The jumpsuit was an utter wreck, now more brown than green, and stuck uncomfortably to her skin. In a daze, she wandered through the houses, rummaging through drawers, breaking open safes, until, at last, she found a root cellar by one of the houses on the cul-de-sac. Someone had apparently used it as a makeshift bomb shelter, but by the look of it, they hadn’t lasted long. Still, there was a locker, and inside of it Ezra found soap, a razor, and a small selection of clothes, including some fresh underwear, even if it was men’s briefs, and it all looked to be close to her size. 

She tossed them in a plastic basket nearby, ignoring the fact that Arthur was following her, tucking it under her arm and heading to the creek behind the community. As soon as she reached the edge, she began peeling off her blood soaked clothes, revealing bare skin that was covered in the same crusting filth. Arthur knew he should turn, giving her privacy, but the fact was, he was worried. After everything she’d just been through, she shouldn’t be anywhere near as calm as she was, slipping into the water like she was bathing on a hot summer day. At some point, that reserve was going to break, and he didn’t want her to be alone when that happened.

He compromised by stepping backwards, sitting sideways beneath a tree nearby. He could hear her, he could glance at her out of the corner of his eye, but he wouldn’t watch her. He was just there, in case she needed someone. That was what he told himself, anyway, even if he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger a little as she tossed her bra to the side and pushed down her underwear. It had been over two hundred years, after all.

He was glad he hadn’t left a few minutes later, when she’d finished rinsing the bloody suds from her hair. Suddenly she’d doubled over, retching, as she stumbled up the bank. Once her stomach emptied, she began crying in great wailing sobs, even as she tried to tug the t-shirt she’d chosen down over her body. She didn’t make it any further than that before collapsing on her knees, Arthur catching her just as she pitched forward. Her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as she buried her face in his neck. Every sob that shook her body made him hold her closer, until he had her pulled into his lap, stroking her hair and murmuring soft, soothing words. 

She was crying so hard she couldn’t even speak, her hands twisting tightly in the front of his shirt. He was warm, solid, and real, real in a way that nothing else here seemed to be, so she held onto him like an anchor. He’d been through his own version of this a few times now. The sudden realization that everything you once knew, the whole world as you understood it, was gone, replaced by a never ending nightmare, and you could never, ever get it back. If you thought about it, it would drive you mad, but even if you didn’t reality would slip in from time to time.

When her sobs finally died down, she pushed herself away from him, apologizing. 

“It’s alright. You been through a lot, and I think you handled it pretty damn well. You made it out alive, and a lot of folks couldn’t even do that. Don’t be hard on yourself for breaking down. This ain’t a normal world, not for you, not for me, either. We just gotta do what we can.”

She nodded, then extricated herself from his lap. He tried not to watch as she pulled the briefs up and over her thighs, not to notice the slim glance of her pelvic area before the shirt fell to cover it, but his eyes were drawn to the softness of her flesh. He might not have wanted the feelings it brought up in him, but they were there, just the same. 

When she’d dressed completely, he saw the struggle on her face, the way she was trying to push her emotions down again, and he grabbed her elbow. She needed to face it, to deal with it before it took over her thoughts and ate her alive. The only thing locking it away did was delay the breakdown, until one day the walls couldn’t hold any more. In this world, you needed your sanity to survive, so a sudden breakdown was something you just couldn’t afford.

“Hey, it’s okay, you know. You ain’t gotta keep up being strong all the time.”

She looked up at him, the tracks of her tears still visible.

“What else can I do? What else should I do? This used to be my home. The house right over there,” she pointed, “that was my house. I fought like hell to keep it, to have one damn thing I felt like I’d earned, and I still nearly lost it. Vault-Tec was supposed to help me save it, but look at it! It’s a fucking wreck, and the world’s a wreck, and I can’t change it! I can’t do a damn thing! I was in a vault for more than two lifetimes, and I have to deal with this, all of this, and I don’t have a fucking CHOICE but to be strong!”

The tears were flowing again, as much in anger as in pain. She wished they would stop, because it felt like weakness, and she’d already learned that in this world, weakness was fatal. 

“Listen to me,” Arthur said, tilting her chin up, “if you weren’t as strong as you are, you and all them others would be dead now. But here? It’s safe, at least as safe as any place can be. You gotta let yourself feel what you feel, and deal with it. Because I think this place needs you to live. People now, they don’t do what you did, rushing in to save other folks. But you gotta help yourself first.” Slowly, he pulled her to his chest, letting her curl against him for comfort. “I didn’t save you from Raiders and help you kill a goddamn deathclaw just to watch you burn yourself out.”

They both chuckled as she playfully slapped his chest, then laid her head against it again. Though holding her was meant to be comforting to her, Arthur had to admit, it felt pretty nice for him, too. It had been a long time since he’d been close to anyone, even before the vault thing. So it was a nice surprise to him when, after she raised herself from his chest, she twined her fingers in his and walked with him towards the building everyone was using as shelter for the night. It was a few doors down from the one she’d been using, and, although she’d debated moving her things, she decided against it. After everything that had happened, she just didn’t think she had it in her to be surrounded by strangers, but she didn’t really want to be alone, either.

She stopped just at the edge of the yard.

“Arthur?” 

He hummed in response, looking at her.

“Would you stay with me in a different house? I . . . there’s one I was already staying in, and I just . . . don’t think I can deal with people right now. Not like that. But I don’t want to be by myself.”

Arthur gave her a nod. “Of course. Just . . . lead the way.”

She pulled him to a small yellow house just across the street from the one they were using as the main house, and into a sheltered corner of the kitchen. She’d pulled a mattress there, then tipped over some furniture to create a sort of nest that she’d filled with pillows and blankets. Her Mister Handy, the one that hadn’t really been hers, just something familiar she’d latched onto, was waiting to greet her warmly. She thanked him with a crooked grin, then gave him a quick rundown of what had happened. Arthur noticed she left out most of the violence, except the part where he’d saved her, which put him in the robot’s good graces immediately.

It took her third yawn in five minutes for said robot to realize that she needed rest, and excuse himself to stand guard. Whether it was normal for him to go outside to do that, Arthur didn’t know. To him, it would have made more sense for him to stay nearby, where he could get to them easily. Maybe he was trying to give them some respectful privacy. The thought made Arthur laugh to himself.

Once the robot was stationed outside, Arthur turned to Ezra, only to see she’d slipped out of her jeans and was crawling into bed. He opened his mouth to ask where she wanted him, but before he could speak, she was patting the covers beside her and stretching out her arm to him. He got to his knees beside her, but turned to her before laying down.

“You sure you want me laying beside you like this? I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

She twisted her lips, like she was thinking hard about something, then sighed.

“I guess I should have warned you that I’m a really touchy-feely person. Like, I REALLY like physical affection. If you couldn’t tell by the hand holding and all. It makes me feel cared for. Right now, I need all the touch I can get. I’m not talking about anything inappropriate, and I definitely don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. But if it doesn’t bother you, I promise I’m okay with it.”

“Alright, I just wanted to be sure, that’s all.”

As he settled beside her, she noticed that he didn’t even bother taking his boots off. Again, she told him he didn’t have to sleep beside her if he didn’t want to, but he insisted he’d be fine, so she didn’t push it. Despite her desire to pretty much crawl in his lap, she leaned against the pile of pillows beside him, putting her head on his shoulder. Nervously, he took her hand in his again, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. It had been longer than he could remember since he’d had a woman so close to him, especially one so comfortable being there. But she wrapped herself around his arm like she belonged there, murmuring for him to tell her if anything she did bothered him. He would have, but nothing did. He liked the warmth of her body against his side, the cool skin of her leg beneath his hand. 

Some part of him shouted from the back of his mind, telling him that this was just a trauma reaction. She’d been through some seriously heavy shit, and he just happened to be the one with her during most of it. On top of that, he was probably the only person in the Commonwealth, maybe the whole damn world, who could really understand what life was like for her now. It screamed that even if the rest of it wasn’t true, she wasn’t being affectionate with him because she was interested in him romantically, or found him attractive. She was just that kind of person, she’d said so herself. He was just a convenient warm body, a placeholder, a crutch until she could stand on her own. 

Then she nestled herself against his side, throwing her arm over his chest. 

The rest of his brain told that other part to go to hell. At least for tonight, he’d enjoy this. Maybe things would be different tomorrow, or next week, or whenever. But right now, he was going to enjoy it.


	5. Reconstruction

Arthur woke with Ezra’s leg thrown over his, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. She wasn’t kidding when she said she was a big toucher, he felt almost like he was held captive in her arms, she was so wrapped around him. It would have been a problem, if he didn’t enjoy it so much. Even the fact that there was a damp spot on his shirt from her drooling on him couldn’t keep him from smiling at her, thinking how incredibly lucky he was to be there.

When she suddenly woke, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Her embrace had been the one nice thing that had happened to him in this god-forsaken wasteland, and he was loathe to give it up. Still it wasn’t like he could argue, so when she moved to sit up, he let her. One look at the damp spot on his shirt and she began wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, apologizing profusely. He kept telling her it was fine, and she kept apologizing and trying to dry it, until both of them had fallen into a fit of laughter.

As the laughter died down, she half-heartedly wiped at it again.

“I’m still sorry. For the puddle of drool, and anything else I may have done last night.” She ran her hands through her hair, then stopped suddenly, staring at him. “Oh god. I didn’t grope you or anything last night, did I?”

“No. Is . . . uh, is that something you’re likely to do?”

She shook her head, relieved. “No, I don’t think so. But I wanted to make sure. I mean, it’s been over two hundred years since I’ve had sex, so who knows what the hell my body’ll do on its own. It’s not like there’s a precedent or anything.”

She pulled her jeans on as she spoke, while Arthur stood and straightened out his clothes. Apparently, Codsworth had heard them talking and decided it was safe to come in again, because he appeared in the doorway moments later.

“Miss Ezra? I do believe that a Mister Sturges wanted to speak to you this morning.”

Ezra nodded, pulling on her boots and heading out into the street. For the first time, she really took in what her neighborhood looked like now. Some houses were a total loss. Either time or the bomb had reduced them to little more than a pile of rubble, only fit for pulling down and scrapping. Others, though, like the one she’d slept in, really weren’t too bad. A little work, and they could be almost as good as new. 

Apparently, that’s exactly what Sturges had wanted to talk to her about.

“If we’re gonna make a real go of this, we need to take care of a few things around here, and I was hoping you and your friend might be willing to help us out.” He glanced between her face and Arthur’s. “We’re gonna need a decent supply of clean water, and some food, for sure. Cans are gonna run out eventually, and that river water’s no good for you. Besides that, we’ll need a way to protect ourselves. Once we get established, Raiders, and others, will just look at it as an opportunity to take someone else’s hard work instead of doing their own.”

Ezra nodded. It all made sense to her, and, by the look on Arthur’s face, he agreed. 

“Now,” Sturges continued, “I’ve got some plans drawn up for a rough water purifier, and a couple of security devices. I can get ‘em built easy- once I have all the parts. A good bit of it can probably be found right here around Sanctuary. But seeds, and maybe a couple of the heavy duty parts I need for turrets, that’s gonna take some searching. I can’t exactly go running around looking and build at the same time, so I was sorta hoping that you two might be willing to do some of the legwork?”

Ezra shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with it, as long as I know what I’m looking for. Arthur?”

“Of course. Though I ain’t exactly mechanically inclined. You might have to draw a few pictures.” He chuckled dryly.

“Well alright.” Sturges smiled. “Lemme get you a list together.”

They followed him into the main house, already discussing the types of repairs it needed to be safer and more secure. It was the sturdiest house left in the neighborhood, and the one with the most available interior space, which was why they were using it as the primary shelter for the time being. The plan they eventually decided on was that, once that house was fully repaired, they’d begin working on the other houses one by one, until everyone who needed a place to call their own had one. Priority would be placed on family units, and, obviously, if Ezra wanted a place of her own she could have it.

It didn’t take long for the work to get into full swing. Luckily, all of the parts for a water purification system were right there in the community, so that was Sturges’ first project. While he worked on that, Arthur and Ezra made short trips out to look for useable scrap and food. They were incredibly lucky to find another settlement nearby, a farm, and were able to trade a little help harvesting and some meat that Arthur had hunted for some seeds and produce. More and more, Arthur was finding that he really liked spending time with Ezra. She had a cleverness about her, a way of noticing things that most people didn’t. He’d spent so much time on his own, both before going into the vault and after coming out, that he’d forgotten how nice it could be to just be in someone else’s company.

In between trips out and repairs, Arthur taught Ezra how to shoot. It was, at first, a disaster. She was shaky, unsteady and without the strength in her wrists to fight recoil. But the more they worked, the better she got. It seemed that, once she understood the physics of it, everything else fell into place. Soon she could shoot ten cans in a row off a log without a single miss. 

Every night, she still pulled him to sleep with her in the little yellow house, and every day, he woke up wondering if it would be the last day. Some nights, there were bad dreams, ones that had her wake up screaming, him fighting to hold onto her so she didn’t hurt him or herself. Then she’d sob, wrapping herself around him or crawling into his lap until she cried herself back to sleep. She never told him what the dreams were, and he never asked. 

It was a month after they’d settled into Sanctuary that Arthur realized there was one house he’d never seen her go in. If anyone went over to look for scrap or supplies, either she or Codsworth chased them off, telling them that there was nothing in there, or she thought there was a nest of mole-rats that she needed to take care of- anything to keep them away. Finally, curiosity got the better of him, and he asked. The look of sheer terror on her face made him regret it immediately, and he tried to backpedal, tell her it didn’t matter, it was none of his business. In the end, she sighed, pulling him over to a table to sit with her. She was slumped over, sad, the smallest he’d ever seen her.

“It was mine.”

He barely heard her, her voice was so quiet.

“It was mine, and I’m scared. I haven’t been in since before the vault. I don’t know what it looks like, I don’t know what might have survived, what was wrecked, or stolen, and I’m afraid to find out.”

He put his hand over hers for a minute, then pulled his chair closer to her to wrap his arms around her. He knew she was crying by the way her shoulders shook, and the shuddering of her breath against his neck.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He rubbed her back gently. “It’s gonna be alright. You ain’t gotta do nothing you ain’t comfortable with. We’ll keep everybody out, let ‘em know it’s off limits. If you decide you wanna go, I’ll go with you, if you want me to.”

She looked up at him, nodding. “I know I have to face it one day, and I know the longer I wait, the harder it’ll be. But, fuck. The thought of knowing- what’s left, what’s not- scares me to death. There are things I think about, that I remember a certain way, and if I see them ruined, then that memory is replaced, y’know? I don’t know if what I’ll find in tact, if anything, is worth that risk.”

“If you like, I could go in sometime, see what’s good and bring it out for you.”

She shook her head. “It’s a perfectly fine house, one of the better ones, so I can’t keep avoiding it. It’s a waste to tear it down, so it should be put to use. I just don’t know if it’s worse to go back to it myself, or to let someone else live there.”

The conversation ended there, with Preston Garvey, the old-timey guy, knocking and asking to speak with them. Arthur stood, walking over and chatting for a minute to give her the time to wipe the tears off. He knew she didn’t like the others to see her cry. She’d told him, once, that they saw her as such a symbol of hope, she didn’t want to disappoint them by being sad. Arthur thought they’d probably understand, but he still understood her feelings. There was a time, back before everything had happened, when he’d filled a similar position. 

Turned out Garvey wanted to rebuild the Minutemen, a sort of volunteer militia he’d been a part of, and he wanted their help. He’d gotten a message earlier that day from a passing caravan, a settlement not too far away was having trouble with Raiders. If they’d go by and take care of it for them, putting in a word for the Minutemen, it would help increase their reputation in the Commonwealth. Hopefully, it would also start a chain reaction, so that settlements would start working together instead of isolating themselves.

Ezra said she’d think about it, though Arthur could tell she was reluctant. Not because she didn’t want to help people, her actions with the survivors had showed that much. Whatever it was had her on edge, although that could have had more to do with the conversation that had been interrupted. Either way, she was jumping at shadows the rest of the day, barely able to concentrate. Her hands shook as she welded pieces of scrap together, and he caught her staring into space more times than he could count. Each time, he’d put a gentle hand on her shoulder, drawing her back to the present, and ask if she was alright. Each time, she said yes, but even she wasn’t convinced, not really.

She headed to bed early that night, complaining of a headache, but insisted that Arthur could come to bed later. Since there was more work he needed to help with, he stayed, but it left him feeling uneasy. A feeling that was justified, he found out later, when Codsworth pulled him away.

“Mister Arthur? I’m afraid Miss Ezra is quite upset, and she simply won’t talk to me about it. Since the two of you are . . . close, I thought perhaps you might be able to help?”

Arthur nodded, wiping his hands on a scrap of fabric and heading towards the house. He heard her crying before he even reached the doorway, and stepped inside to find her curled in a ball on the floor, rocking gently. She didn’t seem to notice as he moved towards her, but didn’t flinch when he laid a hand on her back.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

She looked up, eyes rimmed with red. “Did the fucking tin can send you?”

“Yeah.” He sat on the floor beside her. “He’s worried about you.”

“He’s a tin can, Arthur. He doesn’t have feelings. He’s stupid, and he can’t understand anything. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be human, and broken, and have the weight of a million goddamn things on his shoulders!”

Arthur quietly cleared his throat. “That what you feel like?”

“Yes!” She threw herself into his arms. “I can’t stand it, I can’t do it.” She shook her head furiously. “They expect me to be this superhuman thing, bigger than myself, to stand for everything good, everything that used to be. Fucking ‘old world values’ or some shit. I don’t know what the fuck happened to me in that vault, what their damn experiment even was! But it’s not for me, it’s for everyone else, and I try to be what they need, but then they just want more . . . and I’m tired.” Her voice softened from its earlier yell. “I just wanna figure out what my place really is in this new world, who I really am.”

She curled against him, letting him pull her into his lap. For a long time, he said nothing, just stroked her hair and held her. When he did speak, it was softly, a deep rumbling sound in his chest that she felt as much as heard.

“You ain’t gotta be nothing you don’t wanna be. You need some time to figure things out, we’ll make sure you get the time. Yeah, you brought these folks a lotta hope they needed, but you’re still just one person. They can hold their own for a while, if they need to.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her face into his neck. After all the bed sharing, his scent was familiar to her, comforting like a warm blanket. She let him fill her senses. Not only his smell, but the solidness of his body around her, the warmth of his touch and the coarseness of his stubble against her cheek, the steady rhythm of his breathing. He was real, he was there, with her.

He held her close against his chest, and closer still when she put her arms around him. She’d twined herself around him plenty of times in the past month or so, but somehow, this felt different. A slow ache was worming it’s way through his chest, strange and unfamiliar, but not entirely objectionable. Breathing in deeply, he closed his eyes, letting the sweetness of her envelope him, her breath ghosting across his skin. 

Eventually, she moved from his lap, but not before hugging him tightly. She paused for a moment on her way to the bed, then returned to him, placing a kiss against his cheek. This time when she moved away, he caught her hand in his, squeezing it, and let her tug him beside her in the bed. She turned, putting her back to him, then pulled him against her, slipping his arm around her waist. When he had her properly spooned against him, she let out a sigh of contentment and drifted off to sleep.

Arthur lay awake for some time after that, thinking about her, about the kiss, and the way she was pressed so tightly against him. He felt simultaneously at home and somehow lost, deep at sea in emotions he wasn’t sure he understood.


	6. Reclamation

Arthur woke to find Ezra already awake and dressed, watching him from her position beside him. When he sat up and rubbed his eyes, she leaned forward, then grabbed his hand and tugged gently.

“Today. I’m doing it today. It’s time to stop letting the past drag me down, and find a way to move forward.”

He yawned, running his fingers through his hair, then nodded. “Want some help?”

He didn’t realize how tense she’d looked until after he said that, and her body drooped in relief. She nodded, smiling at him, and then got to her feet. As she headed out, she paused in the doorway.

“I’m gonna go tell Garvey and Sturges not to bother us today, that we’re working on a special project. Garvey might get pretty curious, but they’ll leave us alone.”

She returned a few minutes later, visibly shaken. His body tensed, and he found himself standing straighter, ready to jump.

“You okay? Something happen?”

She shook her head. “No. Just . . . nervous. I . . . thanks for agreeing to help, Arthur.”

“Of course.”

They walked towards the house, but as they approached the front door, she grabbed ahold of his arm, tucking her body behind him. He paused for a minute to let her settle, and once he felt her relax, he moved forward again. At the edge of the threshold, he stopped.

“You ready?”

After drawing in a deep breath, she nodded, and he turned the knob. The door creaked open slowly, two hundred years of apparent lack of use stiffening it’s hinges. How it had managed to go untouched all this time, he didn’t know, but it took a forceful jolt from his shoulder to edge it open wide enough for them to get through. 

Inside, it was . . . almost like nothing had happened. There was dust and dirt, sure, and some spots where rain and rads had seeped in through cracks  
. But other than that, the only issue was the normal decay caused by time. It had probably helped that she had very little to begin with. The house was pretty bare, by most standards, nothing in the living room but a tv, a chair, and a shelf full of books. The kitchen, aside from the usual accoutrements, contained only a small radio, and a single stool pushed up at the counter.

Arthur turned to look at her, noticing her grip on his hand had almost gotten painful. Her lower lip was trembling slightly, drawn into a deep pout that was near tears. He put his arms around her, stroking her back, then asked her if she needed to leave. When she shook her head, he let her go and lead her down the hallway. He opened the door to the bathroom first, letting her look inside, and then the spare room, which was filled with boxes that were sealed and shut.

“My ex-husband’s,” she explained, then pulled the door shut.

At the last door, she stepped in front of Arthur, taking a deep breath. Her hand rested on the knob, and Arthur put one hand on her shoulder. The reminder that he was there seemed to help, and she pushed the door open. 

Ezra’s eyes widened as a gasp of a sob wrenched it’s way from her throat. It was there, it was all there. Her bed, her sheets, yellowed with age, even the line of plastic dinosaurs she’d lined up along the dresser because she’d thought it was hilarious. She ran to the closet and threw it open, and even most of her clothes had survived! A broad smile stretched across her face as she bounced up and down in happiness.

“So, good news, I guess?” Arthur grinned.

“Yes! Yes, I . . . ,” she pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you. For being here.”

He squeezed her back, lopsided grin hanging on his lips. 

“Of course.”

She flipped through her closet, pulling out a few things that had gotten stained from a small leak to use for scrap fabric, then did the same to the blankets and sheets in the dresser. The ones that had been on the bed itself were useable, though she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to. All of the scrap fabric was wrapped together, put on the floor of the living room, then she turned her attention to the mattress. It had been wrapped in a waterproof mattress cover, which she took off with Arthur’s help, and found the mattress in perfect condition. 

“There’s a pretty good frame in the back of the house we’ve been using,” she told Arthur. “If you’ll help me, we can move this mattress over later.”

“You don’t wanna leave it, stay here now?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve been thinking about it since I decided to do this. I think too many memories live here, too much of my past. If I stayed here, I’d probably feel too much like I was trying to live in the past. I don’t want that. There are things I want here, but the house, most of the furniture? I’ll give to some of the others. Jun and Marcy might like the bed. I think I’ll stick to the one we have. I mean- if you want to. You don’t have to stay.”

He shrugged. “I’ve sorta got used to it now. Ain’t no use movin’ again.”

He was glad she hadn’t said anything about getting him a different bed. If she offered, he’d feel like he needed to take it, and honestly he kind of liked sharing a bed. Okay, he REALLY liked it. But it’s not like they were a couple or anything, so he’d feel pretty strange about telling her that. It was just, well, he liked not waking up alone. He’d spent most of his life alone, so it was a nice change. It didn’t hurt that she was such a cuddler, and half the time he felt starved for any kind of touch.

By the end of the day, she’d gathered most of the things she was certain she wanted and brought them to the other house. Her old clothes were piled in the new house’s living room, ready to be washed, and several stacks of books were on the kitchen counter. They’d decided that the next day, they’d focus on cleaning the new bedroom, then moving the mattress in so they could start using it. Every time they talked about it, Ezra was a little afraid that Arthur would ask to move into his own room, but, thankfully, he never did.

After they ate dinner with the rest, they went to the small creek by the community so Ezra could wash some of her old clothes. She’d told him that she was looking forward to wearing clothes that fit properly again, especially underwear. Of course, he’d laughed, telling her he imagined it was pretty rough for her. He couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like, to have a piece of your past to hold onto in this future. He hadn’t had the option. All of his things had been claimed by the Pinkertons when he’d been arrested, and before that, well, he hadn’t had much anyway.

They’d been too busy talking for him to pay much attention to her laundry, though he wished he had. Maybe then it wouldn’t have been quite such a shock to see the long row of lacy underthings hung in the bedroom. As his eyes ran the length of it, he felt his face flush, not wanting to gawk but finding himself incapable of looking away. She’d washed shirts, jeans, even a pair of overalls, but, for some reason, his eyes kept returning to that silk and lace. Shades of grey, black, even green, and his treacherous mind kept envisioning her in each of them.

She stumbled out an apology, saying she was unsure where else to put them, and of course he told her it wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t have been. It was only fabric, after all. Soft, smooth fabric, that hugged her curves and followed the lines of her most intimate, sensitive places . . . .

Dammit. This wasn’t what he wanted. Her clothes weren’t there to be fodder for his crudest thoughts, to get his blood pumping and make him want something he couldn’t have. They were functional, there to cover and protect. Yes, they were . . . nice, and she probably looked very nice in them, but that wasn’t his business. Even if they were hanging a few feet away from his face.

It was more difficult for him to be close to her that night, feeling so guilty about thinking of her in her underwear. He tried, but his body kept tensing up, especially when she wiggled against him, trying to get him to spoon her. Normally he loved that, feeling so much of her body against his, how small she was compared to him. Maybe that was the problem. He was terrified his thoughts would head off in that indecent direction again, his body would react, and she’d thing he was some sort of disgusting pervert, trying to take advantage of her.

The next day, Preston asked them again about helping the settlement nearby, and after a brief conversation, they agreed. They’d barely left Sanctuary since they’d started rebuilding, and it certainly wasn’t a bad idea to try to spread some goodwill. Although it was only about a half day’s walk, they figured they’d leave in the morning, so they’d have plenty of time to get supplies together. Preston had given Ezra a laser pistol he’d found and had Sturges repair, as ‘an advance payment’ for her help with the Minutemen, so waiting gave her a little time to practice with it, too, and get used to the feel. She found it was a lot easier for her to handle than manual weapons, lighter and with less kickback. 

Of course the problem turned out to be more goddamn Raiders. Ezra was already sick of the entitled assholes, and this was only her third or fourth encounter. There was just something about the way they took advantage of other people’s hard work, stealing whatever they wanted, and their reckless disregard for human life that got under her skin. It made her blood boil, and by the time they’d cleared out the plant, she found herself dealing with them with an almost clinical coldness. It was, to some degree, necessary. You couldn’t exactly deal politely with people who would shoot you in the face and laugh about it. But still, it made her sad. She couldn’t bring herself to regret killing them, though. Especially when she hacked into one of their terminals and found out they were after Mama Murphy, the old lady who’d warned her about the deathclaw back in Concord. Despite her strangeness and her appetite for chems, Ezra was growing pretty fond of her. She might be half crazy, but she was sweet crazy, and she told great stories.

They returned, and the settlement agreed they’d work with the Minutemen. When they told Garvey, he’d been absolutely delighted. He also had another mission to send them out on. An abandoned theater, out farther in the ‘wealth this time, that would make a great settlement. All they had to do was clear out . . . something. The message hadn’t been real clear on what, exactly, was infesting the place. It would take a good day’s journey to reach the place, and probably a few after that to get some basics set up for whoever arrived. 

Ezra had to agree that it was a good idea to set up someplace for wanderers to make a home- in theory. But having just dealt with a bunch of Raiders had her feeling a bit cynical. Would anyone actually show up, even if it was a Minuteman affiliated settlement? Word had spread quickly about her actions in Concord, and there would soon be rumors about the settlement they’d just helped, but would that just make Raiders more likely to rush in?

Ezra sighed and said she’d think about it, but she wanted to talk to Arthur first. Garvey agreed, but asked if he could speak to her privately for a minute. Curious, she followed him, gesturing to Arthur she’d be back in a bit. He pulled her to the side of a house, then took a deep breath.

“You . . . uh, did you ever hear of the Quincy massacre?”

“Wait- didn’t you say that’s where you guys came from?”

“Yeah,” Preston answered, “right before you found us in Concord.”

“So . . . oh, shit. Garvey, I’m so sorry. That’s what happened to you?”

He nodded. “The Minutemen were supposed to help, but no one showed, and it was left up to me. I guess . . . I’m sort of the last official Minuteman.” His shoulders slumped momentarily before he straightened his back to look up at her again. “But, well, I think we can fix it. The Minutemen are supposed to bring hope . . . like you brought us in Concord. So, I was thinking, maybe you should be the one to rebuild them.”

That definitely took Ezra by surprise.

“Why me? I didn’t even know how to use a weapon until Arthur taught me. Why not him, or you?”

“Well, no offense to him, but he wasn’t the one that grabbed the gun off the pavement and charged into the Museum of Freedom, or organized rebuilding Sanctuary. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good man. But you walked in and you took charge, you lead when we needed a leader. Me? I couldn’t even keep these guys safe on my own.”

“It’s a lot, Preston. There’s been so much going on, and I feel like I’m just starting to get settled into something again.”

“I understand. And I get it if you don’t want to do it. It’s just . . . I think you want the Commonwealth to be a better place, just like I do, and that’s what the Minutemen are supposed to be about. You’re already doing most of what you’d have to do, anyway, helping out settlements. So what do you say? Will you be our new General?”

Ezra couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve never even served in the military or anything, and suddenly I’m a General?”

“The leader of the Minutemen has always had the title of General.” He broke out in a wide grin. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

Ezra had to admit, being a big part of helping to make the world, or even just the Commonwealth, a better place was hard to resist, even if she didn’t really feel qualified. She nodded.

“Good. Good! This is just what we need. General.”

She laughed, then headed back to Arthur, shaking her head.

“What’d he want?” Arthur asked.

“You’re looking at the new General of the Minutemen.” She shrugged.

“Damn. That’s a hell of a promotion!”

“Tell me about it. I still don’t know why he wanted me, of all of us, to do it. I told him he should pick you. At least you know how to fight.”

“Well, you do too, now. Besides, leadership ain’t really my thing. I’ll support you, don’t worry. But better you than me.”

“It’s just another way for me to let everybody down. I don’t know anything about, well, anything to do with that stuff.”

“You ain’t gonna let nobody down.” He threw a comforting arm around her shoulder. “And you ain’t gonna do this by yourself, neither. I’ll be right beside you, and you know damn well Garvey ain’t gonna let you loose. Man looks at you like you hung the moon.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry that made him laugh. If she was the new General, he guessed he must be a Minuteman, because he damn sure wasn’t leaving her to do this by herself. From a criminal to a volunteer lawman in a crazy-ass future world. He’d never have guessed his life would go like this.


	7. Uncovered

“Alright, General, where we off to today?”

Ezra always laughed when Arthur called her that, knowing damn well he didn’t mean it as anything but a joke. Ever since Preston Garvey had appointed her the new General of the Minutemen, he’d taken to calling her that anytime he felt like teasing her. It was more of a pet name than a title, and she preferred it that way. She’d have lost it completely if he’d started treating her all seriously, like Preston did. She needed to keep herself connected to the ground somehow, and Arthur was good about being that little extra reminder, anytime things started to feel too heavy. 

“Thankfully, nowhere. Not that there’s not a fire to put out somewhere, I’m sure, but I told Garvey I needed a break. Traipsing back and forth across the Commonwealth killing whatever godforsaken creatures it can throw at me gets pretty fucking tiring.”

He nodded. It had been the same damn thing on repeat since the day she’d agreed to help. Garvey’d get news of some settlers that needed a spot cleared, or were being bullied by Raiders, and the two of them would head out to take care of it. By the time they got back, there’d be something else to do. Sometimes he’d have messages from two or three settlements at once. 

“I dug up some old clippers last time we were out, and they seem to still work. I thought I’d cut my hair. Want yours done?”

Ezra held the clippers out. She’d cleaned them up nice, there was hardly any rust, and the kit still had most of the guards. His hair was definitely getting long, too, nearly past his ears, and he was glad they’d shaved it for jail. He shook his head.

“Reckon I’ll see how you do on yours, first.”

“I’m great. Always cut my own hair, even before. You’ll see.”

He definitely did. Or, well, didn’t. She hadn’t had long hair to start with, just a girlish, shaggy pixie cut. Now she had nothing, or next to nothing, anyway. She’d buzzed her entire head, all of her hair down to about a quarter of an inch, less around her ears and at the nape of her neck. It should have, by society’s standards (or what was left of it), made her look less feminine, but it didn’t. It made her look tougher, sure, but even more feminine than she was before, showing off her bright, wide eyes and full lips. 

For a minute, Arthur just stared, mouth agape. How could a simple haircut make someone look both more threatening and more vulnerable all at the same time? 

“You like it?” She rubbed her hand over her newly shorn scalp. “I was just gonna trim it, then I figured ‘fuck it’, and went all the way down. I was tired of having to wash blood out of my hair every time we had to clear out a new spot.”

“It’s . . . something.” He took a deep breath as his eyes roamed her face. “Woulda never thought a cut like that could look so good on someone.”

He wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say, but it must have been pretty good, because she grinned like a fool at him, rubbing the back of her head.

“I love the way it feels under my hand, too. It’s all bristly and soft at the same time. Feel it.”

She took his wrist and placed his hand on the back of her head. Briefly, he let his fingers brush along the nape of her neck, right at the hairline. Her eyes closed, leaning into his touch and brushing the softer, longer hairs against his hand. It did feel pretty nice under his fingertips, so he let his palm glide gently over the back of her head, almost like he was petting her. In a way, he guessed he kind of was. It didn’t help that the more he rubbed, the more she moved her head, pushing against his palm like a cat and making soft sounds of pleasure. It made him want to pull her into his lap and keep caressing her scalp, just to hear her.

Finally he pulled his hand away and she opened her eyes, giving him a crooked smile. She seemed almost embarrassed about the way she’d reacted, getting so much pleasure out of such a simple act. His own sheepish grin must’ve reassured her, because she grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the house. When they got inside, she asked him what he wanted to do.

“Anything you want. We’ve got the day, and I want to spend it together.”

“I’d think you’d rather be rid of me for a while,” he drawled. “Seems like spending week after week killing things with someone might put you off their company.”

She shook her head. “I like spending time with you. You understand me better than the others. Maybe it’s because we’re from the same time, I don’t know.” Shrugging her shoulders, she continued, “I just know I feel happier being with you. Or would you rather I stop bugging you? I guess I have sorta taken over your life, huh? Making you rescue me, dragging you off to rescue the others and help set up here . . . I even make you sleep in the bed with me! Oh shit. I guess I have been pretty selfish.”

“It ain’t no big deal. Fact is, I like spending time with you too.”

He ducked his head down, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up his cheeks. He more than just liked spending time with her, he loved it. Everything about her made him feel like the world maybe wasn’t such a bad place, after all. Considering where he’d come from, that was a big feat.

That reminded him that he’d never really told her about that. After the first couple of times, she’d stopped asking and he’d just let it go. But now, they were something like friends, or close enough, and he knew all about her past. Hell, she’d told him her basic story within twenty-four hours of meeting him. She’d relied on him to get her through trauma and panic attacks, and he’d given her almost nothing of himself, of his vulnerabilities. He suddenly felt incredibly guilty.

“Hey, Ez? Can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course.” She nodded, sitting up to pay attention.

“It’s . . . uh, it’s kinda personal. And maybe you won’t like it, or even me afterwards. But you’ve told me about all there is to know about your past, and I ain’t done the same.” He swallowed hard. “This ain’t easy for me, but, well, you deserve to know what kinda man you’re spending time with.”

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. It was tempting to bring out one of the whiskey bottles they’d scrounged up, but he knew he needed to be sober for this.

“Back a long time ago, before . . . everything, I was in a gang, weren’t too much different from the Raiders. We didn’t take from anybody that didn’t have, and we didn’t kill for fun- well, most of the time. But we was bad men, all of us. Every one, including me. I’d killed many a man before the world went all to hell. Stole what could be stolen. And that ain’t the worst.”

He swallowed hard. The next part was what he least wanted to say, but he knew he needed to. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he took it off, figuring he didn’t deserve her comfort.

“Had us a fellow, used to lend money out to the poorest souls, people with damn near nothing. When the time came to pay, I was the one that went collecting for him. Scare ‘em into paying, beat ‘em into paying, and if I couldn’t, I took what little they had, instead. Time and time again, I did it, and I ain’t gonna lie to you- a part of me enjoyed it. Enjoyed beating folks to hell and back, taking what they owed out however I could. Felt good to know there was somebody out there worse than me, I guess.”

Hanging his head, he sighed, looking at his hands where they sat draped across his lap. She had her hands on his shoulders again, one arm wrapped around him in comfort, and he didn’t have it in him to push her off again.

“In the end, I saw different. Man who lead us, Dutch, he went off the deep end, started killing folks cause they’d insulted him, or looked at him funny. Wanted more and more money, all the time. I left, walked away from it all, but that didn’t seem to matter. Pinkertons got me, hauled me in, trying to lure out Dutch, but it didn’t work. He didn’t care about me no more. Said I’d ‘lost the faith’, whatever the hell that meant. When he never showed, I got sold to Vault-Tec. Used me for an experiment, like you, and, like you, I ain’t got no idea what they did. But that’s me. I don’t deserve your company.”

She sighed, moving to kneel in front of him and take his face in her hands.

“That’s who you were, not who you are. You said that you saw things differently in the end, and you stopped.” She put her forehead against his, her hands beneath his chin. “I’ve seen who you ARE, Arthur. You saved me, helped me save others, and you’re still doing that, every day. You stood by me when I needed support, and you never once complained about having to sleep in the bed with me.” They shared a brief laugh. “What I mean, Arthur, is that I like you. I like being around you. You make me feel safe, and warm, and happy.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in a tight hug. For once, he gave in completely, burying his face in her neck. His arms enveloped her body, pulling her closer, until you couldn’t have slipped a piece of paper between the two of them. As he shifted positions, the soft skin of her neck brushed against his lower lip.

Suddenly everything felt too hot, his clothes sticking to his body, his pulse beginning to race. More than anything, he wanted to do it again, trail his lips along the tender place where her shoulder met her neck. To let his hands run along the planes of her body as he did, exploring her, finding the places that made her make the kind of noises she’d made earlier. He wanted to hear them again, in a wholly different context.

She pulled back from the hug just slightly, letting her arms rest on the top of his shoulders as she looked in his eyes. Was there something there, the same kind of fire inside that he was feeling? As his hands found her hips, she raised one hand up, dragging her thumb across his bottom lip. That touch alone almost had him groaning, watching her mouth as her tongue flicked across her bottom lip. She bit it softly, and he wished it was his lip, instead.

His breath quickened as she leaned forward, moving to brush some hair out of his face. He wanted her lips on his, he wanted to close the gap between their faces and kiss her, but he felt so unsure. Was it what she wanted, really? Was this just her affectionate nature, or did she want what he wanted? The thoughts sped through his brain, almost faster than he could register. Still, her face lingered near his, mouth slightly open.

Until she leaned back, moving her arms and sitting on the floor in front of him. For the second time that day, she seemed embarrassed, twisting her fingers together and chewing her bottom lip. He was as lost as she seemed to be, not the slightest idea of where things should go from there. 

“Sorry,” she half mumbled. “Got too in your space, I guess. I just . . . ,” she breathed in deeply. “I just want you to know, you’re my best friend. Best friend I could ever hope to have.”

She rose to her feet, moving to go to the bedroom, while Arthur considered what she said. Friend, huh? Just a friend. Well, what had he expected, a declaration of love? After what he’d just confessed?”

He got up to follow her, catching up to her just as she got through the doorway. Something on the back of her neck, just above her hairline, caught his eye, and he squinted a bit to see it better.

“Nice tattoo.”

She looked at him, confused. “What tattoo?”

“The one on the back of your neck. Says ‘human’.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “What?” Her hand flew to the back of her neck. “I’ve never gotten a tattoo like that. Ever.”

“Well then, how in the hell-“ he stopped. “Check mine.”

He turned, letting her comb through the hairs at the nape of his neck. At first, she saw nothing. Then she let out a soft gasp.

“You have one too. But yours is just numbers. That wouldn’t be something they did in jail, would it? Tattoo your ID number on you?”

“No. They don’t.”

Ezra’s hands went to her temples as she paced, thinking. Both of them were from vaults. Both had been involved with experiments through Vault-Tec. Both had tattoos in the same place. Maybe it had something to do with the experiments.

“Where’s the vault you came from, Arthur?”

“Other side of the Commonwealth. Why?”

“Mine’s just a little ways away. I think we need to go up there. I’ve got a feeling these tattoos have something to do with the experiments they were doing on us. There are some bodies left in there, and if they have the same tattoos, it might tell us something. Besides, now that I think about it, there was a body that looked an awful lot like a Super Mutant.”

“Shit. You think . . . .”

“I don’t know what to think, but I’m damn sure gonna find out.”


	8. Out of the Vault, Into the Fire

“No, Preston, it’s okay, it’s close enough we would’ve known if someone got into the vault. We really wanna do this on our own.”

Ezra’s hand was on her hip, brow furrowed as she explained to Garvey for the fourth time that she and Arthur would be checking out the old vault alone. She couldn’t understand why he was trying to insist he come along. He trusted the two of them to take out hordes of feral ghouls and Raider gangs alone, but not step into a vault they were almost certain was uninhabited? What the fuck? And why in the hell was he side-eying Arthur the way he was, like he expected him to go feral and start frothing at the mouth?

“Don’t pay any attention to old Preston. He’s just feeling a little jealous, that’s all. Doesn’t wanna be left out of the dynamic duo’s amazing adventures.” 

“Mama Murphy, we’ve talked about this, I’m not-“

“Hush, Preston. We’ve all heard how you talk when they’re gone.”

Over her shoulder, Preston was gritting his teeth, and if she could see better, Ezra would’ve bet he was blushing. To his credit, Arthur was doing his best to stifle his laughter. The old woman pulled Ezra into a tight hug, whispering in her ear so low she could barely hear her.

“You know, I think Preston’s got a bit of a crush on you, young lady.”

A smile quirked on Ezra’s lips. “The Sight tell you that, Mama Murphy?”

“Don’t need the sight to see that. It’s in the way he looks at you. But I know, you’ve got your heart set on someone else. Don’t worry so much about it. He feels the same way.”

Ezra raised an eyebrow at her, but she’d already turned to give Arthur a hug. He wasn’t as fond of her as Ezra was, but he tolerated the way she fussed over him out of respect for both of them. When the goodbyes were said, Arthur and Ezra started the short walk up the hill toward the vault. Ezra was strangely nervous. She hadn’t been this way since she’d first come out, and the newly discovered tattoo didn’t exactly give her a warm fuzzy feeling.

As they approached the lift area, a strong sense of dread washed over her. Suddenly it felt like the world was closing in on her, an intense feeling of claustrophobia without the tight spaces. She stopped, taking a couple of deep breaths. Arthur’s hand went to her back, rubbing it gently to help calm her. When she nodded, he slipped his hand in hers and the two of them moved onward. The button on the outside that operated the lift worked on a delay, luckily, so they didn’t have to worry about that. Arthur pushed the button, and they stepped onto platform, waiting. As soon as it started moving, she jumped into Arthur’s arms, letting him hold her while they descended. 

It was colder than she remembered, the smell of damp mixing noxiously with the scent of decay. It grew more oppressive as they neared the tubes, until they both had to get fabric scraps to tie over their noses and mouths. Both of them knew that what they were about to do was going to be incredibly unpleasant, but they needed something to go on. If they didn’t find out, it would haunt them the rest of their days.

When the tubes finally lay before them, Ezra reached to interlace her fingers with Arthur’s, and he could tell she was shaking. He was pretty jumpy himself, and he hadn’t even woke up here, although it looked to be similarly laid out. The same sterile, blank tubes, the same damages to the empty ones. The only difference was that there were no bloody piles of bones here, and there were fewer tubes. Probably because this vault had actually intended to be a bomb shelter in addition to experiment lab.

He knew right away which one she’d been saying looked like a Super Mutant, the one in the middle with the twisted face and bubbling greenish skin. But he didn’t look quite . . . mutant enough. The skin was a more muted green, and, while larger than a human, it wasn’t quite as large as a Mutant. It was the best preserved body, though, so they decided to check it first.

The gust of air as it opened was the worst thing either of them had ever smelled, and in the wasteland, that had to be pretty bad. Thankfully, the body was strapped in, or it would’ve fallen to the floor. As it was, it slumped over, falling heavily against its constraints. Ezra jumped back when it fell, but was the first to inspect it, using a nearby knife to hold up the little hair that there was. Arthur watched, and then her eyes met his.

“It has one. Letters, R.F.E.V.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

She shook her head. “No clue. Should we check the others?”

He nodded, and they repeated the same basic thing on each body. Some were too damaged to see, either by decay, scar tissue, or radroach nibbling. But a few were in tact, and every one of those had one of three tattoos. Human, like hers, or a small radiation symbol. Some of the worst damaged ones had an image that looked almost like a circuit. The human ones, she wasn’t sure about, or the first one they’d seen. But she could guess that the others had been an attempt to either create ghouls, or prevent them from ever happening. Clearly, it hadn’t worked.

Why was she the only survivor? There were others marked human, but they hadn’t made it, and there wasn’t any indication of a malfunction or anything. The terminals they’d tried either she couldn’t hack into, or they’d been corrupted, wiped clean, maybe as some kind of failsafe. Vault-Tec REALLY didn’t want anyone finding out what they were doing.

They returned to Sanctuary, feeling more confused than ever. The tattoos had obviously been meant to mark the test subjects, so there could be no confusion about which was which. But why? And why were hers, and the ones from her vault, letters or symbols, while Arthur’s were a series of numbers? What was the difference there? Traveling to Arthur’s vault might give them another bit of information to go on, but it was pretty unlikely, given what they’d seen at hers, and what he’d told her. They’d need to look elsewhere, but she had no clue where to start. Arthur suggested they talk to the survivors, to see if they had any ideas. Unfortunately, no one did, not until Mama Murphy came up and asked why they didn’t just head to Diamond City. Preston looked at them and shrugged.

“They do say everything in the Commonwealth passes through Diamond City at least once. It couldn’t hurt.”

Arthur seemed a bit skeptical. “Got any idea who we might ask for?”

“Bring old Mama Murphy a hit of Jet, I can tell you. Use the sight.”

Ezra, Arthur, and Preston all glanced at each other. It was becoming a problem, the way she was always asking for chems, and the occasion she did manage to get ahold of them, it seemed like she wasn’t dealing with them very well. So far, they’d mostly managed to put her off, but it wouldn’t last forever. This time, it was Preston who spoke up.

“I told you, no more chems. That stuff is gonna kill you!”

She pulled a face at him. “Hush, I’m fine. If it’s gonna kill me, I’d say I’ve still had a pretty good run.”

Arthur and Ezra managed to slip out while the two were arguing, heading back to their place to talk. It was easy to see that Arthur wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea, but he’d always hated cities, anyway. Ezra wasn’t sure. On one hand, it seemed like the best option, if they were going to find anything out. On the other hand, the Commonwealth was a big place, and the farther from Sanctuary they’d gotten, the more danger they seemed to find. 

“What do you think we should do, Arthur?”

“I ain’t real sure. I know I’d like to find out what the hell happened in those vaults, especially if it’s got anything to do with all the crazy shit loose in the Commonwealth. But I ain’t too keen on heading out into more danger, and it seems like that’s a pretty dangerous place, even inside the walls.”

“I know. But would either of us really be able to stand not knowing, especially with these permanent reminders on us? Could you go on and live your life without ever finding out what they did to us?”

Arthur sighed. “I suppose not. But if we’re gonna do this, I’d feel a hell of a lot better if we could get ahold of some better guns, and reinforce the armor we got. That’ll take some time, even with traders coming through regular.”

“Okay. I’m gonna head back to the main house for a minute. There’s some stuff I stored there from the old house, before I let Marcy and Jun start fixing it up. I think I’m ready to bring it in.”

“Need any help?”

She shook her head. “It’s just a couple of boxes. I’ll be fine.”

Arthur watched her leave, wishing for the millionth time he wasn’t such a coward. It was so easy to be beside her, to sleep with her body curled against his, to hold her hand and reassure her when she needed it. Why was it so hard for him to think of doing that in the context of being more than friends? To admit that he wanted that, wanted her? Half the time he tried not to admit it even to himself. Especially on those nights where she wrapped herself around him so completely, her body so close to his he swore he could feel her heart beating inside his chest. Sometimes, those were the nights he felt the loneliest. Despite how close to him she was, what he wanted couldn’t have felt farther away.

As promised, she was back in just a few minutes, carrying two boxes. When she walked over and placed them in front of him, he gave her a confused look.

“What’s this?”

She gave him a broad smile. “Open it.”

He unfolded the tops, seeing only fabric, at first. Then he pulled on it, and, one at a time, out came t-shirts, flannels, and jeans. 

“My ex-husbands. Instead of letting them sit around, collecting dust and pissing me off, I decided I wanted you to have them. Something from our time. And it means I get to associate something good with them, instead of bad.” 

He stared at her in disbelief, astounded that she’d want to share such a tangible part of her past with him. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d burned them, if she hated her ex that much, or kept them for herself. But she’d said that if she gave them to him, she’d be creating new, better memories. That hit him hard in the chest, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe for a minute. He spoke quietly.

“You sure you want me to have these?”

She looked at him like he’d said he’d grown a extra head. “Of course. I . . . ,” she sighed. “I really liked a lot of these, or I’d have thrown them out years ago. Some of them I bought as gifts, but he never wore. He claimed they didn’t fit right, or something, but I knew they did. Anyway, the point is that he didn’t appreciate them, and I know you will.”

She smiled at him, and he threw out his arms for a hug. She scooted over, easing into his lap as he wrapped his arms around her, and for a moment, he just held her. Then, moving slowly, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

“Thank you.”

To his surprise, she leaned and kissed his cheek in return.

“You’re welcome. Oh, and it’s fine to wear them right away. I paid Marcy a hundred caps to wash ‘em for me.” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “It was too much, I know, but that was the only way I could make sure they were ready without you seeing.”

“I really appreciate it. There’s some real nice stuff in here, don’t know how I’ll repay you.”

“It was a gift, Arthur. There’s no repaying me. Besides, given all you’ve done for me, I think it’s the least I can do.”

The next morning he decided he’d wear one of the shirts, a blue and green plaid flannel, over his usual t-shirt. Ezra had already gone over to the main building, so he left to join her. When she saw him coming, she stopped in the middle of her work to meet him with a big smile. When she reached him, she put both of her hands on his chest, then stretched up to adjust his collar.

“It looks good.”

“Thank you.”

Neither of them moved until a Preston came over, clearing his throat.

“Excuse me, General. I know the two of you have a . . . personal mission to run. But I was wondering if I could speak to you about the old Minuteman stronghold, out on the coast?”

“Of course.”

Arthur watched the two of them talking, thinking about what Ezra told him the old lady had said. The more he watched, the more he was sure she was right. Of course, he was polite and respectful to her partly because she was his superior. But that didn’t explain the soft way he looked at her when he thought no one was watching, or the way he bristled every time he saw her being affectionate with Arthur. 

He’d be a better partner, for sure. He had that same sense of justice, the same desire to fix the world that Ezra had. Between the two of them, they could probably do it, too. They’d already done a lot, helping out some settlements and setting up others. If Preston had been with her, instead of him, they’d probably have gotten twice as much done, despite what she often said. Though he never wanted to do bad things anymore, like he had in the old days, he didn’t have that same drive in him to do good, either. He’d saved Ezra purely on impulse, because she seemed so innocent, so unaware, and he didn’t want to see her brains painted on the wall. But he would’ve probably left the others to get her to safety, if she hadn’t leapt in first. The only reason he was one of the Minutemen was because she was their leader. 

When she came back over, he asked her what Preston had wanted, and she shook her head.

“The old fort on the coast, Fort Independence? The Minutemen used to use it as their base. It has a radio transmitter, which means the settlements would have a quick, easy way of spreading news, and getting help to them when they need it. But there’s a reason they don’t use it anymore- a shit ton of Mirelurks took up residence there. He wants to get a crew together, clear it out. We’d be about halfway there, at Diamond City, so he was hoping he could take some time to get a crew together, then meet us there afterwards.”

“You wanna do it?”

“Honestly, no. I don’t WANT to. But I definitely feel like I have to. It’s too good of an opportunity to waste. Sanctuary is a great settlement, but it’s all the way at one end of the Commonwealth, so the more distant settlements take too long to get news back and forth. The Castle, as they called it, is more centrally located, and heavily fortified. We’d be safer there, or the Minutemen would, anyway.”

“Thought you was the Minutemen, General,” he smirked, and she elbowed him in the ribs.

“Shut up.”

“All right. Well, if that’s what we’re gonna do, let’s be sure we’ve got plenty of ammo. I’ll put some aside, tell Preston he and his friends can bring it with ‘em.”

She nodded, and they spent the next couple of days doing exactly that. The bought, traded, scrounged, and made. Sturges helped Ezra upgrade their weapons, and brought them some materials he’d scrapped together to help reinforce their armor. Knowing what was going on, the whole community worked together to get them as ready as they could. Though Arthur had said she was good, and she didn’t want to waste ammo, Ezra put in a few rounds of target practice. She wasn’t going to take any chances.

The night before they left, she lay awake in bed beside Arthur, wondering what was going to happen. There was the Castle situation, of course, which put her on edge plenty. If it was as bad as Preston had told her, there was a real possibility they wouldn’t come back. But there was also the whole ordeal with their tattoos and Vault-Tec, which was supposed to be the whole reason they were going out in the first place. There was no way to know what they’d face, and it terrified her.

“Can’t sleep?” Arthur asked as she turned over for at least the tenth time in the last half hour.

“No. Guess I’m nervous.”

Arthur rolled to his back, lifting him arms.

“C’mere.”

She scooted towards him, letting him wrap his arms around her and pull her against his chest. Tenderly, he stroked her hair, thinking about most of the same things she was. He was having trouble sleeping, himself, busy worrying that one or both of them might not come back, and he still couldn’t find the courage to be honest, not even with himself.


	9. The Past, Remembered

Aside from a few bugs and one guy who tried really hard to convince them to buy a “charge card” from him, the first half of the trip was uneventful. They talked and laughed like they always did, making jokes about the world that used to be, and how unthinkable a trip like they were taking would’ve been. That was definitely a good thing that had come about- people weren’t in so much of a hurry anymore. At least, they weren’t unless they were being chased by something deadly.

It was closing in on sunset when they heard gunfire and shouting, and hurried towards the sound. It was coming from the old Cambridge police station, where a group of people were holed up, surrounded by ferals. Arthur climbed on top of a nearby abandoned truck, helping Ezra up after him, and the two of them added their guns to the fight, not stopping until every feral was on the ground. When they were sure it was safe, they jumped down and headed over to see if any more help was needed.

They were greeted, if greeted was really the right word for the rudeness they received, by a gruff man in a suit of power armor. It seemed pretty dumb to Ezra, wearing power armor continuously, draining core after core, but she said nothing as he stomped over, demanding that they identify themselves. When he got in her face, particularly, demanding again, she lost it.

“Sorry, boss, did you WANT to be eaten by ferals? Because you looked like you needed the fucking help, so we helped. Our mistake.”

She turned to leave, but the man grabbed her shoulder. 

“If I appear suspicious, I apologize, but we haven’t exactly had the easiest time.” He sighed. “We’ve been under fire constantly. If you’re free, we could use the help.”

“So who are you, then?” Arthur asked him, far more politely than Ezra would have.

“Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. Those . . ,” he gestured towards his two companions, “are Knight Rhys, and Scribe Haylen. Look, we’re down a man and low on supplies. I’ve been trying to get a message to my superiors, but the signal’s too weak.”

Haylen, who was much more polite, explained that she’d made some modifications to the police radio, but they needed something called a deep range transmitter from Arcjet Systems. Of course, Mr snarling Danse-y pants wanted their help. Arthur chuckled, shaking his head, and Ezra sighed.

“Look, Danse,” she started, “I’d be more than happy to help you, if I wasn’t in the middle of something- actually more than one thing, already. We can lend our guns through the night, if you let us stay, and when we’re done with what we’re doing, I’ll come back. If you still need the help, we’ll help. Fair enough?”

The look on his face said it wasn’t, not really, but he was also perfectly aware that beggars couldn’t exactly be choosers. He gave them one curt nod, then escorted them inside. Rhys and Haylen followed, and Danse gave them a brief overview, warning them to stay out of certain areas. They were more than happy to oblige, since neither of them were particularly comfortable in police stations, especially Arthur.

They thought Danse had been rude, but he was an absolute peach compared to Rhys. The man had zero hesitation in looming over their shoulders, making snide comments and insulting them only slightly subtly. It didn’t matter where they tried to situate themselves, Rhys found a way to be practically underneath them. It was putting Arthur on edge and pissing Ezra off. When she finally snapped,asking him what the problem was, he went on a ridiculous tirade about them being opportunists, thieves, and murderers, threatening to kill them if they so much as looked at one of them wrong. Arthur was ready to beat the hell out of him, but, luckily, Danse overheard and gave him a dressing down. Meanwhile, Haylen took the chance to apologize on his behalf.

“He just bleeds Brotherhood. It’s his life, it’s all he has. Most of us don’t take it quite that seriously.” She shrugged. “Between you and me? That transmitter’s not going anywhere, and neither are we. We wouldn’t have gotten in such trouble tonight if we’d realized there was a horde of ferals nearby. Now we know, so we should be fine. You do what you have to do, come back when you can. If we’re lucky enough to have it already, we’ll be gone, and you can help yourselves to anything we leave behind.”

Arthur gave her a nod of thanks, and the two of them settled in a corner together, with Ezra pulled to Arthur’s chest. She noticed Danse looking at them with a small smile from a few feet away and raised her eyebrows.

“You guys look very sweet. How long have you been together?”

Well, that was certainly unexpected.

The two shared a glance, and Ezra smiled up at Arthur, giving him a wink. Then she turned back to Danse.

“About six months, I think. Ran into each other in Concord, and he swept me of my feet.”

Well, it wasn’t entirely a lie. He’d pulled her back into the house he’d holed up in, anyway. And it had been in Concord. Arthur even backed it up with his own version.

“She just made my heart race, I couldn’t help myself.”

Oh, god, this was going to be trouble. Here she was, wrapped around his arm and looking at him like she wanted to eat him up. Even though he knew it was a joke, something to amuse herself and pass the time, maybe give them a good cover for sleeping so close, his heart still pounded. Especially when she ran her fingers along his jaw like she was doing, nestling herself against him. If they’d been alone, he wouldn’t have been able to help himself, he’d have pulled her in to kiss her. But then, if they were alone, she wouldn’t be doing this.

He swallowed hard, noticing the way her eyes glittered up at him, a soft, half smile on her lips. When her hand fell against his chest, he had to resist the urge to push it away, knowing she could probably feel the way his heart was pounding. How could she not? He felt like it would hammer straight out of his chest.

Danse gave a good-natured shake of his head, then went around dimming the lights. They watched as Rhys settled into his sleeping bag, still glaring at them, and Haylen turned against the wall. Danse remained at the table, muttering something about having trouble sleeping lately, then picked up a book. Soon, the room was filled with the measured breathing of sleepers.

When morning came, Arthur and Ezra headed out early, sent off by Danse with some spare ammo. The second half of their trip went much faster than the first, and they reached the gates of Diamond City by early afternoon. Outside, a dark haired woman in a tattered red coat screamed at a speaker, apparently angry at being kept out.

“Danny Sullivan, you let me in RIGHT NOW! I live here, you can’t just lock me outside!”

After a bit more back and forth, she caught sight of the two of them, gesturing for them to come over beside her. They looked at each other, and seemed to agree it was safe, heading towards her.

“Look, hey, Danny, look at this.” She gestured towards them. “There’s this great looking couple out here, say they’re thinking about moving in. Wanna be a part of the Diamond City family. Wearing nice clothes, hardly patched at all, looks like they’ve got plenty of caps, too. You gonna keep the gate closed, tell ‘em they can’t come in? Let McDonough chew you out for sending folks away saying that Diamond City’s not a friendly place?”

There was a great sigh on the other end of the speaker, and the loud grinding of metal on metal. Soon, the gate in front of them lifted, and the woman darted inside, quickly greeted by a doughy man with a sour face.

“Piper! I thought I told Sullivan not to let you in!”

Ezra rolled her eyes while the pair argued, still wanting to ask one of them for help. Apparently the guy was the mayor, and the girl ran the local paper, so she was pretty sure at least one of them could point them in the right direction. Unfortunately, they seemed more interested in arguing than being helpful. Arthur was just about to pull Ezra away when the mayor turned to them.

“Now, don’t let her sway you. Diamond City is a wonderful place, and the two of you look like Diamond City material! How can we help you today?”

“We’re just looking for some information.” Arthur said. “About some abandoned vaults.”

The Mayor frowned. “Well, I’m sorry. But I don’t know of anyone her who could give you information like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m very busy.”

He walked away in a huff, and when he looked at Ezra, Arthur knew they were having the same thought. A reaction like that? They were definitely in the right place.

“You two looking for info about vaults, huh?” Piper asked. “No information myself, but if you wanna know where to start, I’d head to Nick Valenine. Nicky’s a good guy, and he can find out anything about everything.” She started to walk away, then turned. “Oh, and before you leave, stop by my office at the Publik. I’ve got an idea for a story I think you guys would be perfect for.”

They exchanged a quick glance before Ezra raised an eyebrow.

“Well, that was weird.”

After asking a couple of residents, most of who were unbearably rude- especially the snooty Codman bitch, they got directions to Valentine’s place. Unfortunately, it seemed like he wasn’t home. The woman there, Ellie, told them that he’d been taken in the process of trying to find a missing person. Arthur sighed heavily, then looked at Ezra.

“You ever feel like we just can’t catch a break?”

She laughed, then offered their help, and the next thing they knew, they were headed to yet another abandoned vault. Just how many did Vault-Tec have our there, anyway? 

Given most of the things they’d been through, it was laughably simple to get through the vault and to the overseer’s room, where Nick was being held. The supposed guards, triggermen, whatever they were supposed to be, were mostly incompetent, guys who wanted to feel powerful and were good at posturing, but not much else. They had a tendency to spout threats before firing, giving away their positions completely and making it easier to take them out. 

Their idiocy was reinforced by watching the guy who was supposed to be watching over Valentine get completely taken in by him. He actually convinced the man that his boss was planning on killing him, without even trying hard. When he ran off to try to “make things right”, Arthur and Ezra saw their chance to jump him. They stole the password to the terminal controlling the door Valentine was locked behind- who was stupid enough to write something like that down? When it was opened, Ezra rushed in, and immediately Valentine started talking, asking her why they were rescuing him and how they knew where he was. He was charming, definitely, even if the tattered robot body was a bit jarring to her. 

The second Arthur entered behind her, Valentine stopped, staring at him with his mechanical mouth half open. He recovered quickly, clearing his throat, but the reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed. The question was, why? 

“We’ve only got a few minutes before they realize that dumb as a brick isn’t here anymore, so I’d guess we should head out. We can talk when we get back to my office.”

With that, he headed out, leaving them trailing behind. They worked together to make their way back out of the vault, though Ezra wished more than once that she had the time to poke around on the terminals. She’d grabbed a few dated looking holotapes, but doubted they’d yield any useful information. Vault-Tec wasn’t the kind to leave valuable information laying around. 

The two of them kept following Nick Valentine all the way back into Diamond City, getting more nervous by the minute. It didn’t matter how sweet Ellie was, how thankful that they’d brought him back, even when she pressed a handful of caps to their palms. Nick’s reaction when he’d first seen them had them both on edge, and neither of them would be able to relax until they knew the reason behind it.

After assuring her he was perfectly fine, a Nick dismissed Ellie for the night, choosing to settle behind his desk alone. He encouraged the two of them to sit on the other side, an odd smile on his face. He stared for a moment, then shook his head.

“Well. If it isn’t Arthur Morgan. Can’t say I expected to see you here.”


	10. Devil in the Details

“What the hell?”

Arthur jumped to his feet, and Ezra jumped in front of him. Nick, meanwhile, propped his feet on the edge of his desk and lit a cigarette. 

“Calm down, I’m on your side.”

Though they didn’t exactly feel better, they eased themselves back into their seats. Nick leaned forward again, tenting his fingers together in front of him.

“I guess I owe you an explanation. Fact is, I haven’t always been living in this stunning synth body. I, or at least my brain, used to live in the body of a detective by the same name, over two hundred years ago. I won’t bore you with the details, but back when I was Nick Valentine, the human, I was hired to do a little freelance work for an old detective agency, the Pinkertons. Maybe you’ve heard of them?”

Ezra glanced at Arthur, whose hands were balled into fists. He was clenching his teeth, too, definitely not dealing with the revelation all that well. 

“They wanted me to help them look up members of the Van der Linde gang. They’d been searching for ‘em for years, would always get close and then they’d slip right out of their hands. Knew they were outclassed, decided to call in the best detective they could get, the one who always found the missing persons.” He looked at them, glowing yellow eyes focused firmly on Arthur. “I gave it a try. Got close. But the more information I got, the less sure I was I even wanted to work with them. Found out they had a reputation for a particularly cruel brand of punishment. I ended up off the case, gave it up to follow one that was, well, a little more personal. But I knew you, Arthur Morgan, the second you walked in front of me.”

Arthur sighed, relaxing into his chair. “I reckon there ain’t nothing you could do now, even if you wanted to. And we need help. So I’ll trust you. For now.”

Nick gave him a nod. “Can’t really ask for more than that. Now, who’s the young lady with you, and what exactly can I do for you?”

“Ezra Noble.” She stuck out her hand, and he shook it. The plastic skin felt a little odd, but not as strange as she’d have expected. “We . . . well, we came from vaults, both of us.”

“Not just a little ironic,” Nick laughed.

“Well, both of us had signed up for experiments, pre-war,” Ezra continued. “And both of us were the only ones we know of who came out. Two separate vaults. Some nasty looking things inside, and, there’s this.” She turned around, pointing to the tattoo on the back of her neck. “We’ve both got one. His is numbers. Neither of us know how or when we got them. We know Vault-Tec was running an experiment on us, but we don’t know what it was. And we think . . . ,” she hesitated, then continued. “We think it might have something to do with the ghouls and the super mutants.”

“Well . . . that’s quite a situation.” He drummed his metal fingers on the desk in front of him. “Give me a couple of days, let me see what I can dig up. Then we’ll talk.”

They nodded, then left Nick’s office. It was too late to head out to The Castle, and they didn’t want to possibly disturb Piper, so they got directions to the nearest room for rent. It was a large room, but very sparse. Not even a blanket for the bed, which was also a twin- much smaller than the queen they were used to. They squeezed into it, facing each other, their bodies flush against one another. In the dim light, Ezra could just barely make out Arthur’s face, his eyes locked on hers. She gave him a small smile, then nuzzled her head beneath his chin, hearing the way his breath hitched. Then he wrapped his arm around her, and, in no time, they were both asleep.

The following morning, they decided to pay Piper a visit, to see what she had to say. As a reporter, she was likely to have as much luck as Valentine, when it came to snooping. Besides, they were starting to be known around the Commonwealth, anyway, so they might as well tell the story themselves. Otherwise there was no telling what people would say.

She greeted them readily, knowing smirk on her face. They weren’t even seated all the way before she blurted out the words she’d been dying to say.

“You guys are from a vault, aren’t you?”

They exchanged an amused glance before Arthur answered.

“Something like that.”

“So what was it like, inside?” Eagerness gleamed in her eyes.

Ezra shrugged. “Don’t really know. We weren’t exactly awake. They put us- well, me, at least- under in suspended animation or something. About two hundred years ago, just before the bombs. I woke up a few months ago.”

“Seriously?” She looked to Arthur. “What about you?”

“About the same. Different vault, though. I think I was put in five or six months before her, got out a couple months before, too.”

“Wait- you guys aren’t even from the same vault? And you were both put under? What the hell kinda bomb shelter was that?”

“Not one. Or at least, not only.” Ezra answered. “We were part of some kind of experiment. Volunteers, sort of. Only we don’t know exactly what they did to us.”

“Oh my god.” Piper laughed, excitement ringing in her voice. “Vault-Tec was experimenting on you, without telling you what they were even doing? This has gotta be the biggest scoop ever.”

“You mean to say,” Arthur said, furrowing his brow, “that folks now don’t even know that Vault-Tec was fooling around and experimenting on people?”

“God no. There’s only one or two vaults anyone even knows about, and all but one of those has been abandoned forever. Nobody knows much of anything about them. The one that’s still inhabited is pretty reclusive.”

Neither of them had known there was still an inhabited vault,so that was something. Piper spent the rest of the time questioning them about what life was like for them, adjusting to the new Commonwealth, and how it compared to their past. There was some . . . awkwardness as they discussed how they’d met, but they were nonspecific enough they didn’t think it would be a problem. Ezra made sure she promoted the Minutemen, and then they wrapped up. 

It was midday when they met Preston near The Castle, a handful of other Minutemen in tow. They all seemed completely enthusiastic about the attack, despite the fact that none of them had any idea what they were up against, aside from “some Mirelurks”. Somebody just wanted to run in, guns blazing, somebody else said to draw ‘em out. Then there was the pincher attack idea, but they had no idea if any of them would even work. In the end, Ezra figured they might as well try the pincher attack, because it seemed like the most versatile option.

Oh, there were Mirelurks, alright. They kept coming, and coming, and coming. They’d nested all through the courtyard, all over the walls, and even inside. By the time they thought they’d taken care of all of them, the eggs started hatching, and the had to deal with the creepy little hatchlings trying to crawl up their legs and chew on them. Soon, Ezra was tossing molotovs at every nest before she got close, trying to reduce the chance of feeling those disgusting things against her skin. 

Suddenly, there was a loud roar from the collapsed side of the Castle, and Ezra stopped cold where she stood. A feeling of dread crept up her body, fighting with the weariness that threatened to overtake her. Behind her, she heard Arthur’s voice.

“Ah, shit.”

Another screeching roar ripped through the air, and then she heard a lone voice from below.

“MIRELURK QUEEN!”

The shout resonated through the courtyard as the tremendous creature stalked towards where Ezra stood on the wall. She raised her gun, firing off as many rounds as she could before running, dropping frag mines behind her and yelling warnings to stay away. The mines blew beneath the queen, one after another, but she still kept coming. Arthur watched in horror as the queen closed in on Ezra, spewing acid that she only barely dodged. He used his sniper rifle to do what he could, but the tough shell deflected most of them, leaving him helpless.

There was a break in the wall just behind Ezra, gaping dangerously. She felt her foot slip, but luckily caught herself. Not that it did much good. It was either jump, or be trampled. Taking a deep breath, she raised the gun again, firing continuously until the last possible minute, then curled in on herself and let gravity take over.

The queen fell, lurching sideways off the side of the wall and half into the sea. Preston whooped in victory, along with the rest of the surviving Minutemen, but all Arthur cared about was getting to Ezra. He took the steps nearest him two at a time, his feet pounding against the grass as hard and fast as they could go once he hit the bottom. The loose gravel beneath his feet caused him to slip a few times as he climbed the pile of rubble towards her, but when he saw her, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“This shit hurts,” she moaned, reaching her hand out to him. 

Rather than pull her up, he collapsed beside her, looking her over for injuries. She was covered in scrapes from the fall, and would likely be pretty badly bruised, but he didn’t see anything that looked overly serious. Then he let his hand rest on her ankle, and she yelped, jumping backwards.

“Fuck! Ow, dammit. Ow, ow, ow!”

He carefully wrapped his hand around her ankle, noticing it was swollen, but her pants were too tight to let him see properly. 

“I think it’s sprained,” he told her. “You’ll probably be alright in a few days, but I’ll have to look to be sure.”

Preston must’ve finally realized something was going on, because he came running up, followed closely by the others. His eyes grazed over her prone form, taking in the look of pain on her face and Arthur’s hand resting on her thigh.

“General! Is everything alright?”

“Got a sprain, I think. I’ll have to take her back somewhere and get a good look to be sure. There someplace private I can take her? Comfortable?”

Preston glanced between the two of them again, finally resting his eyes on Ezra. He stepped forward protectively, trying to nudge his way past Arthur.

“General, I’m not sure that-“

Ezra yelped in pain as she tried to adjust herself to stand, then collapsed.

“Garvey,” she replied wearily, through gritted teeth, “please shut the fuck up and let him take me someplace before I pass out.”

“Yes General. Right this way.”

Arthur lifted her easily, scooping her up into his arms and following behind Preston. He lead them into the Castle, through a winding hallway, until they reached a room with a few beds inside. Though he obviously would have preferred to stay, Preston politely excused himself, closing the door behind him. Arthur put Ezra down gently on one of the beds, then backed away. Ezra shook her head.

“My body hurts too much to move any more than I have to. I know you need to look, but there’s no way I can maneuver to take my pants off.” She breathed in deeply, like she didn’t really want to say what she was about to. “Would you mind doing it?”

“No,” Arthur said calmly, despite the way his heart was pounding. “I’ll take care of it. Just . . . just lay on back.”

She settled herself backwards on the bed, closing her eyes. Before long, she felt the bed shift beneath his weight as he sat beside her, and the soft brushing of his hands as he lifted her shirt out of the way. His rough fingers slipped beneath her waistband, unbuttoning, and she couldn’t stop the soft gasp that came out of her, nor the goosebumps that rose on her flesh at his touch. Biting her lip, she opened her eyes to see him watching her, his eyes focused intently on her face as he eased the zipper of her pants down.

His eyes flickered over the gap of lace visible below her waist, and he felt his breathing quicken. God, he didn’t need the thoughts he was having right now, not with the way she was breathing faster, groaning quietly as she lifted her hips for him. His hands slid around her waist, over the silk of her underwear, cupping her ass as he pushed her jeans downward. He couldn’t help but notice how perfectly it fit in his palms, like she was made for him.

As his hands moved down her thighs, Ezra couldn’t stop herself from watching him, licking her lips at the way his eyes closed when he touched her skin. He was trying hard to pace his breathing, she could tell. Was his heart hammering away like hers was, heat rising in his chest? It was too easy to imagine this situation differently, too easy to think about his mouth on her skin, his tongue tracing over the lines of her hips. She could hardly even think about the pain, now, her mind too full of other things.

He took great care as he pulled her pants off, gently taking the bottom hem as he tugged them down her legs. He kneeled in front of her immediately, at her feet, trying to pay attention to the injury, and not the was his body was responding to the sight of her as she was. His head was already swimming with desire for her, despite how formal the situation should have been. Every time he tried to focus on her ankle, he couldn’t help but imagine putting his lips to it, brushing soft kisses up to the inside of her thighs until his mouth was resting against the lace between her legs. It wasn’t made any easier by the way she seemed to be spreading them slightly, giving him a clearer view of what lay between.

“I, uh . . . I think it’s just sprained.”

She rested on her elbows, watching the way his hands grazed across her skin, like he was afraid to touch her, but still wanted to. She had the knee of her good leg raised, letting it drop to the side slightly as her thoughts drifted. She imagined him sliding those hands up the backs of her legs, rough palms caressing her tender skin. His face dropping down, between her legs, his breath hot against the fabric there. God, she was getting wet just thinking about it. As their eyes met, she couldn’t help chewing on her lower lip, and his eyes dropped quickly down again. He cleared his throat roughly, then moved back to sit beside her on the bed.

“Reckon you need to rest a little while. We’ll get you set up good here, and head back to a Diamond City when you feel better.”

She nodded. “You’d best tell Garvey, before he explodes. For being so sure I’d be a good General, he treats me like I’m made of glass.”

“Well I can’t blame him for worrying after that fall you took. Scared me half to death.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you, I just didn’t want to get trampled by that Mirelurk queen.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Well I’m certainly glad you didn’t.”

He leaned to press a kiss to her temple, making her laugh and push him away.

“Go on, tell Garvey, then.”

“Yes, ma’am, General.”

“Go!”

She smiled as he walked away, shaking her head. Of all the other people in the Commonwealth, she was glad he was the one she’d run into.


	11. Results

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Smut contained herein.)

In her dream, his arms had been around her. They usually were, when they slept, but this time it was different. This time it was more than the cozied-up, holding you fondly, isn’t-this-bed-small kind. There was heat in his touch, obvious by the way his hand was slowly making it’s way over her stomach, moving towards her breast. His breath was low, hot in her ear as he reached his goal. Greedy as he was, he didn’t rush. This was a long time coming, and he wanted to savor every moment of it, relish every gasp he worked out of her.

He moved from one breast to the other, teasing her nipples into stiff peaks so sensitive that the lightest brush had her groaning, breathing in rapid pants of anticipation. She’d go crazy if he didn’t touch her soon, satisfy the wet hunger he’d raised between her legs. Lust burned bright inside her, all for him, and she wanted him to know, needed him to understand the way he made her feel. When his fingers finally began moving downward, his pace was so torturously slow that she was soon whining in need, hips rocking against him. Still, he didn’t speed up, only whisper soft words in her ear.

“Easy, girl. Waitin’s the best part.”

The husky growl of his voice made her more impatient than ever, and she covered his hand with both of hers, pushing it where she wanted it. He started to laugh, tease her about being so eager, until his finger slid down the length of her, parting her lips to reveal how slick and swollen she was for him. Instead, he groaned, dark and deep.

“Goddamn,” he hissed. “You want me that bad?”

She nodded furiously, her hips moving against him. He let a single finger press against her, the only movement from her own body, and she moaned with desire.

“Please,” she panted. “Need you.”

His only response was a low growl, and his fingers spreading her open to his touch. He moved slow, despite her desperation, or maybe because of it, until her hips bucked hard against him, begging for more, faster. When he finally obliged, she felt her crest rising in record time. She drew sharp, gasping breaths, trying to say his name, but no words could compete with the pleasure beginning to flood her body. A white, blinding heat built between her legs, until she was trembling against him, her hand reaching over her head to grasp his hair. Her low moan built into a wanton cry, as the pleasure built, rising higher and higher. Each time she was sure she would fall over the edge, he’d shift his touch ever so slightly, and the wave kept building. He was hard against the back of her thigh, grinding against her with the same fervent need, biting at the skin of her neck and leaving her breathless. Oh, god, it was coming, the wave of her orgasm, so hard she knew it would drown them both . . . .

She woke with a pulsing ache between her legs, cursing the dream for leaving her in such agony. It was so real, so strong, she swore she could still feel the hard length of him against her.

Except she was awake, and it certainly felt real enough. Arthur was flush behind her, hand thrown over her hip, just as it had been in the dream. Experimentally, she pressed her hips backwards, slowly, and found she definitely hadn’t been imagining it. The throbbing between her legs grew, wetness spreading as she bit her lip. It didn’t help when, as she let her hips move away from him, he grunted softly and pressed himself against her. From where she lay, she couldn’t tell if he was asleep or awake, leaving her conflicted. If he was awake, there was certainly no harm and in pushing back, giving him the friction he seemed to want, and encouraging him to do the same for her. If he wasn’t, on the other hand, doing so would be dangerously close to taking advantage of him for her own sexual gratification. Not exactly the kind of thing she wanted.

She decided that the best course of action was to let it go, no matter how frustrated it might leave her. It wasn’t worth the damage to a valuable friendship, and, maybe later, when she could find some privacy, she’d revisit the deliciousness of that dream. She might even come close to the intensity of climax it had promised. With a deep, regretful sigh, she closed her eyes.

And felt his hand grasp her hip, pushing his cock against her ass with a quiet moan. 

Reflexively, she pushed back, rocking her hips, and his fingers dug into her flesh. She stopped, and heard a quiet whine in her ear, his fingers sliding around her hip to dance at the surface of the soft satin between her legs. As he brushed over her swollen clit, she gasped, hips jerking backwards against him. With a satisfied groan, he pressed his hips in harder, working against the rhythm she’d started. His hand cupped over her, fingertips pressing at her opening through the fabric, before starting a slow, circling pattern against her. Her gasp of pleasure sent a hot rush throughout his body, his teeth digging softly into her neck as he pressed himself harder against her.

She didn’t know how long they stayed there, rocking against each other while his hand worked deliciously against the front of her underwear. All she knew was that suddenly pleasure burst forth from between her legs. She gripped the back of his neck hard, gasping like she was drowning, as he kept grinding against her ass. She pressed back, his fingers still held firm against her, and worked her hips furiously, until his groans grew deep and urgent, the rhythm of his hips stuttering as he chased what seemed like it would never come. Sensing his frustration, she reached behind her, pressing the heel of her palm against his cock in hard, rapid strokes.

His panting breath grew quickly into a rising growl, the hand between her legs matching her rhythm against him. He slammed his hips against her, trapping her hand between them, and she worked it faster still, until his growl turned into a roar that he had to stifle by biting her shoulder, hard. There would definitely be marks, but she couldn’t care less. She felt a soft fluttering between her legs again, growing as he absentmindedly stroked the satin of her underwear, until she pulled the front of them low enough for his hand to slip inside. A low curse fell from his lips as he felt the silken velvet of her skin, the slick swell of her clit beneath his fingers. God, he had such deft fingers, working her quickly into another orgasm that left her boneless against him, their bodies tangled as the dim light of morning rose outside.

When he woke later, Ezra was already out of bed. He knew that was likely to be the case this morning when, yesterday, Garvey brought her a stimpack he’d scrounged up. It had healed her almost instantly, especially since she’d already spent a few days resting, and they’d already talked about leaving to go back to Diamond City today. She was probably getting everything ready, letting Garvey give her an earful of everything the Minutemen needed her to do. Though he still supported her, there were times Preston’s insistence that she lead EVERYTHING frustrated him. She was only one woman, and one who’d been through a hell of a lot in a short time. Surely someone else was capable of running these errands from time to time.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed, getting ready to stand, but was startled by a painful ripping feeling across his pelvis. Confused, he unfastened his pants, and was met with the fabric of his boxers stiff and stuck to him, like he’d cum inside of them. Of course he had, after that goddamn dream he had. Embarrassed, he raised his hand to wipe across his face quickly, and he caught the unmistakable musk of sex on his fingers. Thoughts ran quickly through his head. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. What he’d assumed was an incredibly vivid dream had, in fact, actually happened. 

Panic gripped him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted it. Oh, god, he’d wanted it. All those nights spent with the curve of her ass pressed against him, the mornings he woke up rock hard with her leg thrown over his hip, it had driven him wild, at times. To be so close to what he wanted, but so far away. He’d dreamed of having her, or her having him, more times than he could count, which was why he’d assumed that was just another one. But he hadn’t cum in his sleep like that in almost twenty years, and a dream wouldn’t explain the smell on his hand. Right?

But . . . even if it hadn’t been a dream, what if it wasn’t exactly how he remembered it, either? He’d thought she’d been an active participant, reaching back and touching him, calling his name as he’d touched her. What if he was wrong? What if, after so many goddamn dreams, and well over two hundred years of celibacy, he’d just taken advantage of her, while they were both half asleep or more. She might not even remember that it happened. If it happened. He still wasn’t going to completely discount the chance of it all being a dream, though it was pretty doubtful. As he grabbed some water and a cloth to clean up, he went over the possibilities in his head. 

Aside from the actual dream scenario, he could see only two. One- he may have assaulted his best friend and the girl he was probably in love with in her sleep. Two- neither of them actually had been asleep, and they’d actually fooled around. In either circumstance, there was the potential that she didn’t remember it happening. In the first scenario, he could keep quiet, and if she hadn’t realized it happened, then everything could be the same. Except it wouldn’t. He’d know, and he’d feel guilty about it until it spilled out of his mouth half drunk sometime. If she remembered, she’d probably be pissed, so he’d know, which was helpful.

But . . . if she’d been totally aware of what was going on, and she’d let him get her off, and had gotten him off in return, well, what did that mean? Was she interested in him, or was it just a one time thing, born out of desperation? Was it just two friends taking care of each other’s needs, nothing complicated about it? 

He wasn’t sure which situation was worse. 

Slowly, he made his way to the courtyard, where he found Ezra deep in conversation with Garvey. When she saw him, she smiled, giving him a little wave, so at least she wasn’t angry. With some trepidation, he approached. 

“I get it, Preston, and I know we need to help these settlements. But Arthur and I are already behind, after my sprain. We were supposed to be back in Diamond City two days ago. And I’ve offered to help another group, too. Don’t you always tell me to offer help to anyone who needs it? This is an entire faction. If I can help them make contact, they could be good allies. Just this once, some of the others can take the lead with the settlements.”

“I know General, but it’s not the same as them seeing the leader out there. The Minutemen are coming back because of you, and I don’t see how running around with that-“

Arthur stepped up beside Preston, clearing his throat. “We good to head to Diamond City?”

Like a gentleman, he ignored the potential insult that Garvey was ready to spit out. He knew he didn’t like him much, probably in part because of how close he was to Ezra. It was no secret to anyone that Garvey was nursing a crush on her, and would generally have preferred to be traveling with her, but she always asked Arthur to come, mostly because they worked so well together. When they were backed into a tight spot, the two of them worked together seamlessly, almost like they knew what the other was thinking.

Ezra didn’t hesitate in answering him.

“Of course. Garvey and I were just ironing out the final details. We can leave as soon as you’re ready.” She gave a pointed look at Preston. “He can manage perfectly fine without me for a few days.”

“But General, if-“

“Preston, it’ll be fine. You’re perfectly capable of holding things together without me.” 

She clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, then turned and walked away with Arthur. They took a few minutes to double check their things, and headed out. Once they were well out of earshot, Arthur turned his head towards Ezra.

“Why’s Garvey all tied up?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Convinced the men can’t live without me for a few days. Supposedly. Honestly, I think it’s mostly because I won’t tell him exactly what’s going on. He can’t stand the idea that I’m keeping secrets from him. Especially if I’m sharing them with you.”

She elbowed him gently, laughing, and he returned her smile. Everything was so simple, so easy and natural, that by the time they got to Diamond City, Arthur had decided not to bring the subject up at all. He’d seen the mark on her shoulder, where he’d bitten her during . . . whatever had happened. There was no way she’d slept through that. So she knew, or at least suspected, and she hadn’t bothered to say anything, so he followed suit. Whatever he might want wasn’t worth potentially throwing away what they had. If it happened again . . . well, maybe then he’d ask. 

The whispers started as soon as the guards at the gate saw them. At first, they’d both chalked it up to normal interest in the newcomers, on their second visit inside of a week. Then they started hearing snippets, words like “vault” and “two centuries”. But it wasn’t until they walked past Piper’s office that they really understood. Nat, the paper girl, jumped down off of her stoop and ran towards them, pushing the latest issue in their hands.

“That interview Piper did with you guys is really selling! Did you really sleep for two hundred years in a vault? While they did all kinds of experiments on you?”

Ezra mumbled something in the affirmative and shared a glance with Arthur. This wasn’t exactly what they’d expected when they’d agreed to do the interview, but there was no going back now. They made their way to Nick’s office, waving and returning smiles like they were celebrities, which they kind of were. When they came in, even a Nick had something to say.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr and Miss Vault Dweller. ‘The Couple out of Time’, or so I hear.” He chuckled. “Piper means well. Sometimes she’s just not real clear on what privacy is. Anyway, I have something that might take your mind off things.”

He got up from his desk, moving around to lean against the front of it. Ezra’s heart felt like it was going a mile a minute, her eyes wide as she looked him over. Arthur was tense, but less so. He wanted to know what had gone on, definitely. But she seemed absolutely adamant about it. Maybe he’d feel different if he’d been the one to find the tattoo, or if his was as visible as hers was. Still, he took one look at the anxiety on her face, and his hand slipped firmly into hers, squeezing. She squeezed back, grip like iron, as Nick opened his mouth.

“So, apparently the big Vault-Tec headquarters is up in the Capital Wasteland, where they kept track of every single vault in the US. But there also happens to be a regional headquarters, and it’s right here in the Commonwealth, just around the corner. It’s been ransacked a few times, according to my sources, but it’s likely whoever did it was looking for valuables, not information. Not sure how many terminals are still intact, or how much information’s on ‘em, but they’re probably your best bet around here. The problem is, the place is infested with ferals. So,if you wanna get information, you’ll have to wipe them out first.”

He lit a cigarette, putting it to his mouth. For the first time, it occurred to Ezra that it was probably just an old habit, left over from the previous, human Nick. It was funny, that so many little things like that made up a personality. She wondered if he’d ever questioned it himself, or thought about giving it up.

Beside her, Arthur coughed, drawing her attention.

“Thanks, Nick. We appreciate it.”

There was some more back and forth, and some exchange of caps, but Ezra payed it little mind. She was deep in her own head, wrapped up in thought. She hadn’t allowed herself to really think about what had happened with Arthur, afraid of what it might mean. When he didn’t bother to bring it up either, she’d thought for a little while that maybe she’d dreamed it, but the bite on her shoulder proved otherwise. Before they left that morning, she’d noticed Garvey staring at it, which was probably why he’d been so difficult.

Arthur pulled her out of the office, trying to talk to her about their next move, but he could see she wasn’t really in the mood. Instead, he got all their things together, and the two made their way back to the police station, to see if they’d be able to help Danse.


	12. Danse Lessons

Though Rhys was his usual sour self, Danse and Haylen seemed happy to see them, welcoming them back with smiles. It was late enough that Danse decided they’d be better off heading out first thing in the morning, after a good rest, so they took a little time to chat. Danse tried to fill them in on the Brotherhood, minimally, and Ezra talked to him about the Minutemen. As soon as he heard she was the General, he insisted on calling her by her formal title, much to Arthur’s amusement. He also briefed them on the mission they’d be undertaking in more detail.

“We suspect that the location may have been secured by Institute forces-“

“Wait,” Ezra interrupted, “what’s the Institute?”

Danse’s eyes widened. “You must be really new to the Commonwealth, to never have heard of the Institute. They stand for everything the Brotherhood is against, the rampant expansion of technology gone overboard. Right down to the creation of synthetic humans.”

“Synthetic humans? Like robots?”

He turned to answer Arthur. “A robot is bad enough, but at least it understands that it’s a machine. Synths are worse than that. They’ve been bioengineered, nanotechnology combined with human genetic material. They’ve come to actually believe they’re human, and the Institute wants to use them to replace humanity.”

“Seriously?” Ezra asked. “But, wouldn’t the scientists who created them be human? Why would they want to make themselves extinct?”

“I don’t believe they’ve ever thought that far ahead, if I’m honest. I believe that they’re more interested in the idea of it, seeing if it’s possible. I’m sure their hubris prevents them from understanding that they won’t always have control. After all, the technology that created the bomb was intended to be used to help humanity. But, left to its own devices, humanity seems intent on destroying itself.”

On some level, Danse made an excellent point. People were definitely capable of taking technology too far, of being more concerned about the possibility than the result. But something didn’t sit right with either of them. Between this conversation and the ones they’d had with Danse before, he really made it sound like the Brotherhood of Steel should be the only one who had access to advanced technology. Like no one else could be trusted. Then there was the point he’d made about the synths. If something is sentient, can think and act on its own, and believes itself to be an individual, isn’t that something like humanity? And what about the fact that, according to Danse, they actually did have human dna? How did the combination of robotics with genetic material somehow mean it was less than human? Even if it was created by humans? Humans “created” their children, but they didn’t own them, they were individuals. Sometimes amputees, in the past, had mechanical or robotic appendages implanted. Did that erase their humanity?

Danse lectured them for quite some time after that, about the dangers of technology, about synths, and on the Institute as well. It was good to get some solid information on a potential adversary that they hadn’t even known existed, but it didn’t erase their misgivings. They went to bed that night with their minds swirling with questions, but were too afraid to discuss it where they might be overheard.

The next morning, Danse lead them on a short but uneventful journey towards Arcjet, filling them in on anything he thought was worth knowing as they walked. Occasionally, behind him, Arthur would exchange a knowing glance with Ezra, and she’d try not to laugh out loud. Both of them couldn’t help but notice that he literally never shut up the entire trip. Even if they’d wanted to ask questions, they couldn’t have. It was like the man didn’t even need to breathe.

It was a different story inside the building. Short, curt sentences were the only communication, and only to provide basic information, especially as they got deeper inside. Darkness closed in as they approached their goal, until finally, they reached what seemed to be a dead end. With some searching, Ezra found two working terminals. After having no luck with the first, she decided to try the second, which she hacked into easily. That one yielded fast results, with a password reset option that got her into the first. In seconds, the door was open, and synths flooded in.

These were strange, cold machines that were nothing like Nick. They may have resembled him physically, but they were completely devoid of his charm and personality. They were tools whose only purpose was to protect whatever was deemed an asset, and kill anyone who came near. They made the Raiders’ proclivity towards violence seem positively tame. And they just kept coming, around every corner, until they reached the fusion core. 

“The only way up to the transmitter is through the elevator, but with the power out, that’s not an option. You two head down that hallway and see if you can find a way to get the power back on.”

At the end of the hall, there was a heavily insulated room with a window looking in on the core. They searched high and low, but there wasn’t any sign of a breaker or switch anywhere, until Arthur noticed an opening in the wall that was nearly hidden in a deep shadow.

“What about back here?”

He lead the way in, and they had the power back on in no time. The problem was that the second they did, synths started flowing in and attacking Danse. He was easily outnumbered, and they would be, too, if they headed in. Instead, Ezra glanced around, looking for anything that might help. Her eyes lit on a bright red button, and without thinking twice, she pushed it. Immediately a countdown started, and a cold glow emanated from high in the outside chamber. As it reached farther downwards, a warmth began to flood the room they were in.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Ezra ran to press the button to shut the door to the room, barely managing to get it closed before a bright white flash blinded them. All she could do was hope that the temperature didn’t get high enough to damage Danse’s power armor. They were meant to take a lot, but she had no idea how hot that flame was. At least it seemed to be getting the synths knocked out.

When the flame died down, they opened the doors again and felt a burst of hot, dry air roll across them. By the time they reached the scorched chamber, sweat was running down their faces, their clothing soaked. Danse was on one knee in the center, and Ezra ran to him. The heat coming off of his power armor was almost enough to burn, even from a distance.

“Holy fuck, are you okay?”

“Got a little cooked, but I’m alright. Luckily it took out those synths. Now, let’s get that transmitter.”

They climbed into the elevator, making the mistake of relaxing. When it opened, they were faced once again with an army of synths, seemingly tougher and more determined than the previous groups. When her arm was grazed, she was very glad they were using laser weapons, otherwise she’d have been losing blood in addition to the searing pain. She still managed to take a few more out before collapsing behind a desk.

Once the room was cleared, Danse and Arthur both headed towards her, kneeling to look at her injury. Danse wordlessly handed her a stimpack, then instructed them to search the bodies while he searched the room. This earned him a glare from Arthur, softened when Ezra put her hand on his arm and shook her head.

“I’ll be fine, Arthur. Let’s just search and get this over with.” When he furrowed his brows, opening his mouth, she smirked at him, adding, “I promise I’ll take it easy once we get back to the Castle.”

Arthur found the transmitter on the last synth he searched, and passed it to Danse, who then escorted them outside. Once there, he pinched his mouth shut for a second, then sighed.

“You two handled yourselves well in there. Despite everything that was thrown at us, you kept cool, and not once did I have to worry about friendly fire.”

Ezra snorted at that, which gained her the exact kind of glare from Danse that Arthur had given him earlier. Then he continued.

“You May have noticed, my group’s been taken down to almost nothing. While we’ll be able to get in touch with my superiors now and get some backup, the Brotherhood could always use more soldiers. I think the two of you might be a good fit.”

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but Ezra beat him to it,

“That’s very generous, Danse, but we’ll have to consider it. I’ve only just been made the General of the Minutemen, and I don’t want to end up with too much on my plate. I’d hate to compromise the integrity of The Brotherhood by being overwhelmed.”

Danse nodded. “I can certainly respect that. At any rate, I’d like you to have this weapon. It’s my own personal modification of the standard Brotherhood laser rifles. I think you’ll find it useful. I’m afraid I only have one, but I’m sure you two can share just fine.”

Arthur took it, giving him a nod, then passed it to Ezra. Danse watched with mild amusement as Ezra slung it over her shoulder and the two of them headed down the road with a wave. Whether it was for the pretense of their relationship or just because she needed the comfort, Ezra reached for Arthur’s hand, twining her fingers with his. It was a familiar gesture by now, but one that never failed to send butterflies rippling through his stomach.

They walked in silence like that for some time, each absorbed in their own set of thoughts. Arthur couldn’t seem to stop worrying for Ezra. It seemed like everyone needed a piece of her, and she wasn’t the type to turn anybody down, no matter what it might cost her. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to refuse giving that guy in Diamond City a cola, or running an errand for paint for the other one. Sometimes he thought that if someone told her they needed a heart transplant, she’d be on the table before they finished talking. Not that people did that sort of thing anymore.

Down the road, when Ezra had let go of his hand to shift her pack, he finally asked her why she’d given Danse the answer she had about joining the Brotherhood. She pursed her lips and took a deep breath, running her hand over her head.

“Well, I don’t think it’s the sort of place I’d belong, really. Not with my tendency to see kindness in so much of this shitty world. And I don’t like how . . . angry they seem, or how selfish. But I didn’t want to refuse outright, because they could be useful in the future. We may need information they can get, or allies against something we haven’t seen yet. So it seemed best to leave things as open as possible. Framing it as concern for them seemed the option that would best suit that.”

“Makes sense.”

“Glad you agree.” She grinned at him, bumping her shoulder against his, and, slowly, they made their way back to the Castle.

When they arrived, Preston was beside himself. Ezra made a mental note to tell him to stop obsessing over her wellbeing so much. She might be the General of the Minutemen, but she was still a perfectly capable woman, she’d certainly proved that often enough. Besides, she had Arthur to help look after her, although that might have been part of the problem. He’d certainly made it a point to tell her more than once that he didn’t think Arthur was the best company for her, but she thought that had more to do with his personal feelings than the reality of the situation. Then again, while he hadn’t exactly come out and told the others that he’d been a wanted man back in the past, Arthur had said enough for anyone listening to be pretty sure he hadn’t exactly lived a virtuous life.

It wasn’t like she cared. In fact, she was pretty sure that his past was a lot of the reason he was as good at surviving as he was, and was so capable of protecting her. And like she told him before, she saw who he was now, so who he’d been didn’t really matter. Preston could kiss her ass, and so could anyone else who had a problem with him. 

Amidst all the fuss and chatter, an older woman wearing faded military fatigues stalked up, clearing the area with a few sharp words. She was no nonsense and tough in a way Arthur would have admired, if it hadn’t brought up bad memories. Her gruff demeanor and condescending attitude towards Ezra certainly didn’t win her any favors, though. Despite her complimentary words, he couldn’t help but get the impression that she felt she was the General, not Ezra. Maybe she’d been around during the original Minutemen, but this wasn’t her show.

Still, Ezra listened to her thoughtfully and politely as she lead them down the stairs into a hallway that was supposed to lead into the blocked off armory. It was dusty and dark, riddled with fungus, radiation, and mines just waiting to blow. Once they’d made their way through that, there were some pretty good ammo stashes, and Arthur was even beginning to feel pretty hopeful. Then there was the sound of clanking metal and whirring gears, and they looked up to see a giant sentry bot bearing down on them.

Ronnie, the military lady, seemed practically stunned into silence, as the bot started firing, catching her across the shoulder. Arthur and Ezra both jumped for cover, returning fire, and eventually Ronnie joined in. All of them together took it down eventually, but not before sustaining some minor to moderate injuries. Even then, Ronnie seemed more worried about the loss of the robot than the health of her companions. Without further comment, she got on the terminal beside the door, muttering to herself about passwords. Arthur and Ezra shared a look of amusement, then followed her through the open door.

They were greeted with a skeleton wearing an even fancier old-fashioned outfit than Preston, and several wine bottles, quite a few empty. According to the nearby terminal, he’d barricaded himself in during an attack, but the Castle had been overrun, trapping him. When he’d realized he was going to die, he drank the wine in a final hurrah before passing. 

Ronnie informed Ezra that the outfit was hers, which meant Arthur had to stifle a laugh. The thought of her wearing those ruffles and that hat . . . it was beyond ridiculous. Apparently she thought so too, because she raised her eyebrows high with her lips pulled into a smirk of amusement before following Ronnie up into the west bastion. There, they found a button to open the heavily reinforced door to the courtyard, and passed on into the armory.


	13. The Art of Artillery

The armory, while not exactly impressive, wasn’t anything to sneeze at, either. There was ammo, weapons, and two useable workbenches, along with some premade modifications. But what Ronnie had really wanted to show them was the plans she was spreading across the central table.

“Artillery. And it looks like we’ve got enough scrap here to assemble at least one.” She looked to Ezra. “Well, General. Looks like it’s time to prove yourself. Let’s see if you can organize a crew and get that built up on the wall by morning.”

With that, she turned away, leaving Ezra staring at Arthur in astonishment. When she was out of earshot, Arthur heard her mumble.

“What a bitch.”

After taking a good look at the plans and available scrap, they found that they could definitely build one, and found enough for a second while picking a good location for the first one. With Arthur’s help, they divided the Minutemen into teams, each assembling a different section. When the pieces were finished, they carried them up the walls to finish. By sunset, both guns were ready. It was obvious that Ronnie was impressed, but she tried hard not to show it as they discussed testing them.

“It’s too late for that tonight. Can’t rightly see where we’re aiming, and can’t be sure we hit it. Best to wait until tomorrow. We’ll get up early, get everything ready.” Arthur put his hands on his hips. “Ronnie, you got a good idea for someplace we can hit?”

“Couple places in mind. We’ll talk in the morning.”

As they lay beside each other that night, Ezra looked at Arthur, laughing.

“I think you really threw Ronnie off, asking for her opinion instead of letting her butt in with it.”

“Good. Needs to come down a peg or two, remember she ain’t the General.”

“Maybe she should be.” Ezra shrugged. “She’s got the experience. The drive. And she’s certainly bossy enough.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, I doubt she could organize folks the way you do. Motivate ‘em, either.” He looked over to find her staring at him, and sighed. “You’re good at it, you know. Leading. Stand up and say a few words, and most folks would be ready to follow you right off a cliff, if you asked.”

“Does that include you?” She raised an eyebrow, noting the blush rising on his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, course it does. Ain’t I followed you back and forth across the whole damn Commonwealth now? More than once?”

The corner of her mouth twitched up in a small smile as she brushed her fingers along the side of his face. He couldn’t help it, his eyes closed as he leaned into her touch, his breath catching in his throat. Even after everything, her hand felt so soft, warm against his skin. By the time she let it rest on his neck, his heart was racing, as he thought about what had happened between them before, the morning of shared passion they still hadn’t talked about. He remembered the way she’d felt against his hand, the silk of her beneath his fingers. The sounds she’d made, groaning as she pressed her hips against him, and the luscious musk on his fingers the next morning. The thought of her smell alone had him hardening inside his pants, mouth watering as he remembered how badly he’d wanted to taste her, to let that same sweet musk fill his mouth as he brought her to ecstasy again and again.

When he opened his eyes, her face was inches from his, and he knew she could feel his breathing, hot pants fanning across her face. Thank god her knees were bent, keeping her hips away from his, or she’d know exactly what he was thinking about. He ached for her, so hard now that, for the first time since they’d met, he wished he could find a way to excuse himself and find a little bit of privacy to get rid of the raw, trembling need. 

Her hand was cupping the back of his head now, fingers teasing the hair at the nape of his neck. He’d never considered that area particularly sensitive, but the way she was touching him, it felt wired directly to his groin, every tiny gesture making him want her more. If she could get him feeling this way just by touching the back of his neck, he was almost afraid to find out what it would be like to be touched in other areas. Panic gripped him for a moment when her eyes met his, afraid that somehow his thoughts were written there, yet he couldn’t stop them. Images of her pulling him closer, her lips against his as she slipped her hand down his chest into the front of his pants. Him, unzipping, unbuttoning to let her release him, her hand pumping slowly along the length of him. Kissing him deeply as her thumb trailed over his tip, making him gasp at the sudden pleasure.

His body stiffened as she drew herself closer to him, wrapping one of her legs around his. Her body was so close to his he could feel her warmth through their clothing, and he knew that if either of them shifted slightly, he’d be pressed against her, right between her legs. Both terrifying and thrilling, it only made him ache worse. He could feel the rhythm of his pulse throbbing along his length, her ever present heat pushing his desire forward. 

Then she moved.

She’d been trying to curl against him, to cuddle into a more comfortable sleeping position. In the process, she’d managed to rub against him, grinding his rock hard cock between her legs. Arthur slammed his eyes shut, doing his best to choke back a groan, while Ezra’s eyes grew wide as she realized exactly what was pressed between her legs. Her mind flashed back to the other morning, and a part of her wanted to keep going, to see if he’d react the same way. To find out for sure if it had happened out of desire that was only half awake, or if it was something he actually wanted. But she was facing him, and she didn’t want to see the look on his face if he refused her. She forced herself to shift backwards, even if every muscle in he body wanted to do the opposite, then gently smiled.

“It’s okay, it happens. Just a natural reaction to being close to someone, I guess.”

Her whisper wasn’t doing anything to calm his arousal, but he nodded anyway, attempting to shift himself so he wasn’t quite as obviously erect.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “It, uh, does happen sometimes.”

Embarrassment kept his mouth tightly closed, despite how badly he wanted to ask about the last time. Then again, if it had been something she wanted, she’d have continued, wouldn’t she? He felt like it was pretty obvious that it was being near her that caused it. Maybe they could’ve used the “it just happens” excuse in the middle of the night, but he was wide awake, and she was pretending it wasn’t her at all. He guessed that answered the question of whether or not she was interested.

Neither of them slept well that night.

In the morning, things were mostly as usual. A bit more awkward, but tolerable, at least. They had to keep putting Ronnie off, just to get through their morning routine, until finally they couldn’t wait any longer. Heading into the courtyard, they prepared to test the artillery. Ronnie went over the basics with them, about how to best use the artillery, how far out it could reach, and the like. Then, she handed them each a supply of smoke bombs and gestured to a small, dilapidated building a little ways away. 

“Just toss one of those at the target, then get yourself out of the way. Artillery’ll do the rest.”

Arthur ran to toss the smoke grenade, and came back just in time to watch the big guns fire three shots. Each one landed in a slightly different area, but they were completely effective. The building was nothing but a smoking pile of rubble by the end of it, and Ronnie was wearing a giant grin. Clearly, she was happy the Castle had artillery again. It was useful, certainly, but now that it was taken care of, Arthur and Ezra knew they needed to talk about the information Nick had given them.

They made their way to a quiet corner, where Arthur pulled up a couple of chairs they’d managed to scrounge up. Ezra spread out the map she’d been working on, an old map that she’d scrawled any new landmarks on, making notes about unsafe routes and roads that were still good. Nick had helped her map out the Vault-Tec office, and a few other key places along the way, so they knew what they were headed into. 

“Do you think we should stop by Diamond City first? It’s out of the way, but Nick might have more information.” Ezra’s eyes lifted to meet Arthur’s.

“Yeah. But heading into the headquarters that way puts us going through The Common. Pretty dangerous.”

Ezra hummed in response. “We could take the long way around. Close, but not through The Common. Or we could head out straight from here, but that’s a long journey, too. Means stopping overnight, or searching the headquarters in darkness.”

“Ain’t too keen on that idea, not with ferals running loose. You thinking Diamond City’s the better idea?”

“Maybe. At least we know the route well, and it’s safe to sleep there. Though I don’t exactly love the idea of those tiny beds at the Dugout.”

Arthur chuckled. “Yeah, not the most fun. But better than in the open. I’m thinking that’s the best idea. It’ll let us check in with Nick, see if there’s any news, and we’ll search the headquarters in daylight hours. After that, we’ll see if we have time to come back here, or need to stay in Diamond City another night.” He shook his head. “If we spend much more time in that place, we might as well move in.”

With a smile, Ezra leaned back, rolling up the map.

“I’d better go inform Garvey. Gotta make sure I let him know every fucking possibility, so he doesn’t send out a search party.” 

She rolled her eyes, walking away. Arthur watched her, the bitter sting of last night’s disappointment still fresh in his mind. He’d hoped, really hoped, that maybe there was something more between them than just friendship. It wasn’t that he didn’t value her as a friend, because he absolutely did. She was probably the best friend he’d ever had- repeated life threatening situations had a tendency to push people closer together. But it had been a very long time since he’d wanted to be with someone the way he wanted to be with her, even without the two hundred year suspension. Yeah, he wanted to fuck her, that was pretty obvious. But he also liked cuddling with her the way they did, and holding her hand. Hell, he could just watch her while she slept, the way her eyelashes fluttered, and her chest rose and fell. He looked after her because he WANTED to look after her, to protect her and keep her safe. And, sometimes, when they were together in bed, or just sitting around and talking, it wasn’t sex that he was imagining. Instead, it was thoughts of random kisses and sweet comfort, of wrapping his arms around her and holding her without expectation. Sharing his life with her, every part of it.

He was in love with her, and he had to face it. Then he had to get over it, somehow. Whatever had happened before, she wasn’t interested, that was clear now. He was sure that, inside somewhere, she did love him, but not in the same way. Not the way he wanted.

It was his fault for falling in love in the first place. He’d never had luck in love, and he knew from the beginning that she hadn’t meant anything romantic with all her affection. He was just so stupid, so desperate for closeness, that he’d fallen in love with her anyway. One more goddamn mistake in his life. Maybe somehow, throughout all the things they’d be doing, he’d find a way to fix the mess he’d gotten himself into.


	14. Strange Bedfellows

Piper greeted them like old friends when they entered Diamond City, so happy to have someone actually willing to talk to her that she immediately grabbed Ezra to drag her away for noodles. Since he had nothing else to do, Arthur decided that he might pay another visit to Nick. He figured he ought to try to get to know the new embodiment of the man who’d once been hired to chase him down, especially if they were going to be working together.

It was a slow day for Nick, so slow he’d given Ellie the afternoon off, so Arthur found him alone in his office. He’d been busy poring over some paperwork, but when he saw Arthur, he stopped, rising to greet him.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite ‘man out of time’. What can I do for you today?”

Arthur shrugged. “Not much,I guess. Just thought we might talk a little, if you have the time. You’re probably the only one ‘round here who knows much about who I was before, so I thought I’d try to get to know a bit about you.”

He wasn’t particularly forthcoming, initially. Claimed that he didn’t remember much, but Arthur knew that wasn’t exactly true, and told him so. When he finally broke down, Arthur understood exactly why he didn’t want to get into it. Much like himself, Nick had a dark past, one that he didn’t particularly want to remember.

“It all started with Eddie Winter. You remember him, I trust?”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah. Made what we did look like kid stuff. Never heard of a man who took so much joy in making other folks hurt.”

“That’s putting it mildly. He was just beginning his meteoric rise to the top around the time your gang was winding down. From what I heard, he said you were all too noble, with your talk about living in freedom and being one big family. Said the only freedom to be found was in being on top, and making good and sure you crushed everyone else beneath you.”

“Sounds like a real piece of work.”

“That’s an understatement if I ever heard one. I’d been on his case since before I got put on yours. Had Eddie under my thumb more than once. I guess he felt the walls closing in.”

Nick stopped for a minute, staring into the distance. When he started again, there was a slight tremor to his voice, an emotion that Arthur knew Danse would have insisted was impossible.

“One night, I got a tip that Winter was close, holed up in a little place not far away from where I was living, or where the other Nick was, anyway. Trouble was, I had a report on you to give to the Pinkertons. Not really big fans of the Van der Linde gang, the Pinkertons, and not the most patient, either. I had to make a choice. I could chase down Winter, get him locked up before anyone else got hurt. But if I did that, I’d be as good as giving up my career beyond that. You know as well as I do they’d been funded by the richest man on the East coast, and they had the power to make good on that promise. So I chose to let Winter go. Figured I could catch up with him again soon enough. Biggest mistake of my life.”

Nick leaned back in his chair, and Arthur was sure he’d have taken a deep breath, if he’d had lungs. What he was about to say wasn’t easy on him.

“While I- Nick- was busy jumping through hoops for the Pinkertons, Eddie Winter was going after someone. An innocent woman, named Jennifer Lands. Nick’s fiancé. Kidnapped and killed her. And he’d been busy elsewhere, the whole time.”

Arthur noticed he slipped between first and third person when things got emotional, when he needed to distance himself from the situation. It was something he wished he had the luxury of.

“Damn. I’m real sorry, Nick.”

He shrugged. “Hell, she wasn’t even my fiancé, and I still feel bad about it. No need to fixate on the past, I suppose. But that’s why it wasn’t me that brought you in. Because from that moment on, all my focus was on hunting down Eddie Winter, right until I got the call that put me here.”

He looked down bitterly, then, as if he felt he needed to make it up to Arthur, he turned to rifle through some files. When he’d found what he was looking for, he held a folder out to him.

“Here. Based on what I remember, and what I’ve managed to find out since then, this is what happened to every member of the Van der Linde gang after you parted ways. I’m afraid some of it’s pretty scant, and more of it isn’t exactly nice. But it’s yours.”

Arthur thanked him, then headed out to meet Ezra.

He found her seated with Piper outside of The Publik office, both of them laughing like teenagers. There was a mostly empty bottle of whiskey between them. With a wry smile, Arthur asked them what they’d been up to. Instantly, they got silent, their eyes going wide as they looked at each other.

Then they burst out laughing again.

“So . . . so look, Arthur,” Piper began, standing up with some difficulty, “you’re like, a nice guy, right?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“So, so how come,” she drew her brows together in concentration, “how come . . . wait.” She turned towards Ezra. “What was I gonna ask?”

Ezra leaned back on her elbows, stretching her legs. “You were trying to ask if he was single.”

She didn’t sound nearly as drunk as Piper, but Arthur could see the flush on her cheeks and the glassy, unfocused look in her eyes. Meanwhile, Piper was leaning in close to him, running a finger down his chest.

“Yeah!” She poked his chest gently. “So how come a good looking guy like you’s still single, huh?”

Both of his eyebrows were raised now as he looked over her shoulder at Ezra, hoping she’d give him some kind of out, but her mouth stayed closed. Her eyes, however, were intently focused on him, with her knees raised and wide apart. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was being deliberately inviting. Especially when one knee started dropping slightly, the same way it had when he was looking at her sprain that day. His mouth went suddenly dry, because all he could think about for a second was her stretched out like that on a bed, naked, one finger beckoning him towards her.

He hurriedly turned his gaze back to Piper. “Well, who says I’m single?”

“Oh, come on, Arthur,” she whined. “I’ve seen you around. Never anybody close by but Ez, and you’re always following her everywhere . . . .” She stopped, then suddenly grinned like the cat who ate the canary. “Wait . . . I get it. You’ve got something for her! Oh my god, I’m so stupid not to notice . . . .”

She kept muttering to herself as Arthur felt his cheeks growing hot. To make matters worse, Ezra was sitting back there, just staring at him and saying nothing.

“Goddammit, Piper, you’re drunk. Go home and sleep it off.”

She headed into the Publik, giggling and pointing between the two of them. As she disappeared behind the door, he heard her calling out in a singsong voice.

“You two have fun . . . .”

Ezra sat up as the door slammed shut, looking up at Arthur. He reached down to help her up, and almost ended up falling on top of her. After three more tries, he managed to get her standing, but she was so wobbly on her feet he had to sit her back down again. With a huff, he sat down beside her.

“How much of that damn whisky did you drink, anyway?”

She shrugged. “Most of it.” Despite her obvious drunkenness, her words were mostly clear, just a little thick and slow. “Piper’s a lightweight.”

He chuckled, then playfully put a hand on her knee. When she looked at him with that same intent stare she’d used earlier, his heart skipped a beat, and he removed his hand.

“Well, you sure as hell can’t walk. So how the hell am I supposed to get you someplace to sleep?”

She turned to him and raised her arms in an ‘up’ gesture. Once again, he felt that missed beat in his chest. She was asking him to carry her.

Okay. He could do this. It was just him carrying his drunk friend, not any different that times before when he’d had to do it. He just had to stand up, and lift. It’d be fine.

He stood in front of her, then leaned to lift her. As she moved to put her arms around his neck, he ducked beneath them, instead throwing her over his shoulder. As he did, she yelped in surprise, drawing attention to them.

“Arthur!” She hissed at him. “Put me down!”

“Nah, sweetheart, I don’t reckon I will. Can’t exactly walk straight, can you?”

She wriggled against his grip for a few seconds, then apparently resigned herself to the indignation. He made his way to the Dugout easily enough, only earning a little bit of Vadim’s teasing, and nothing more than an odd look as he paid Yefim. Ezra stayed over his shoulder until he’d kicked the door closed behind them, then sat her down on the side of the bed. She gave him a drunken version of her dirtiest look.

“You didn’t have to carry me the whole way through town like that.” She muttered at him while he attempted to remove her boots, and he glanced up.

“You didn’t have to go and get drunk like that neither, but here we are. Now, you need help with anything else?”

She shook her head, then curled on her side in the bed. Arthur sat down to take his own boots off, and was surprised by her curling her body around his hips. One arm rubbed across his back, while the other was thrown carelessly across his lap. He sat there for just a minute, wondering what exactly had inspired the gesture. She pulled herself back up to sitting and suddenly she was draped across him, her chest pressed against his back. Wrapping her arms around him, she nuzzled into his neck. God, it felt nice. The warmth of her body around him, her tender skin against his. He couldn’t quite bring himself to move, though he knew they both needed sleep. Instead, he reached up to put his arms over hers, holding her in place, and was rewarded with a contented sigh. 

He didn’t realize what was happening at first, assuming she was just snuggling closer against his neck. Then he felt the warmth of her open mouth, and the grazing of her teeth against his jawline. She nipped a spot that made him groan in pleasure, and he felt her shifting, crawling across his lap as her mouth trailed against his throat. As she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, her hips rocked against him, searching for some kind of friction, something to give her the pleasure she needed. At first he leaned back, holding her against him and letting her slide her hand between his legs. Then awareness dawned on him, and he sat upright again.

“Ez, I can’t do this. You ain’t sober, and it ain’t right.”

Goddammit, this was the most difficult, frustrating thing he’d ever had to do. The way she was touching him had him wanting her so much, wanting to rip off her clothes and fuck her all night, so long, so hard, there was no way she’d be able to walk the next day. But he was sober, and she was drunk, and he was ninety-nine percent sure that she wouldn’t even remember this in the morning.

He moved himself out from under her, rolling her onto the bed.

“Ezra, I ain’t gonna do this. Not now, not while you’re drunk. I got a feeling you wouldn’t be real happy in the morning, if I did. But I tell you what,” he said, leaning to kiss her forehead, “you come to me like that someday when we’re both sober, and I promise you I’ll give you everything you want, and then some.”

Sleep was beginning to claim her, now that she was calmer, and she gave him a soft smile and a nod. With that, she curled on her side, her back to him, and he laid down beside her. His body was tense, half worried she’d try something again, and he was still aroused from all her touching and kissing. When she rolled over to curl against him, he flinched at first, afraid she’d gotten interested again. Then she wrapped her arm around him and snuggled close, like she always did. When she’d been still for a while, and his breathing slowed, he started drifting off to sleep at last.

He was nearly unconscious when he heard her voice, small and quiet in the darkness as she snuggled tight against him.

“Love you, Arthur.”


	15. Dangerous Dealings

“How in the hell are you so chipper this morning? Drunk as you were last night, I expected you to sleep till noon, maybe have to delay our little trip here.”

They were on the road, nearly to the Vault-Tec offices, and Ezra had been almost annoyingly pleasant. Not really more than she usually was, but definitely in a better mood than he’d expected. 

She shrugged. “I’ve never had a problem the morning after drinking. I don’t think I’ve ever had a hangover in my life.”

“Wish I could bottle that, whatever it is. I drink heavy like that and in the morning my head’s fit to burst. Mouth like cotton, tired as hell, can’t stand the sunlight. But you’re up here all bright eyed.”

“Guess I’m just lucky.” She paused in front of a building. “This the place?”

“Looks like. You ready?”

She nodded, and they stepped through the doorway, guns at the ready. Before they’d crossed the lobby, a feral lunged at them, and another shortly after. They moved through the first floor carefully, avoiding the elevator for the time being, and checked the place room by room. There wasn’t any real information there, so they moved to the next floor. In a small corner room, they found a working terminal, so Arthur stood guard while Ezra hacked in.

“Got something. Not sure what.”

She sat on the edge of the dusty chair, reading the series of journal entries. One or twice, Arthur risked a glance backwards at her, and saw her staring wide-eyed at the screen, her hand over her mouth. Quickly, she stuck in a holotape and tapped a few buttons, and when she was done, she slipped it in her pocket. Readying her gun again, she gave a quick jerk of her head.

“Let’s head on up.”

He wanted to ask her what she’d found, but with ferals about, the less noise they made,the better. Besides, he knew she’d tell him when she was ready. Whatever else was going on, she’d always been open with him, honest about everything, and he trusted her completely.

They found a second terminal in working order on the top floor, in a big office that must have belonged to whoever was in charge there. They repeated the same routine, with Arthur watching while she did her thing at the terminal. This one must have been tougher than the last, because he kept hearing her mutter curses under her breath, and before long she was almost pounding on the keys. Then, a great sigh of relief as she made it in. Her eyes darted back and forth across the screen, reading emails, journal entries, and memos. Whatever she’d found must have been significant and copious, because this time, she used three whole holotapes recording the information. When she was done, she leaned back, shaking her head, and let out a puff of air.

“We gotta go. I want this stuff back to Nick as fast as we can get it there.”

He nodded, following her down into the lobby. They were about to leave when she saw the elevator, and popped her head in to explore.

“It goes to a basement. It’s probably nothing, but I wanna check it out.”

The basement area contained three more ferals that they took out easily, and another working terminal. A cursory glance at the entries showed it was only a maintenance records terminal, with a few private entries added in. It did, however, give them access to the doors, which put them closer to Diamond City than the other entrance had. Once they were well away and out of danger, Ezra turned to Arthur.

“I want to tell you everything I saw, and I will, but I have to wait a little while, until we’re in private. I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing. First, we’ll take these tapes to Nick. I’ll see if I can use a corner of his office to catch you up, or I can tell you the same time I tell him. Okay?”

He nodded. “Just tell us both at once. No need in saying the same thing twice.”

The excursion, while a short walk, had taken most of the day, and the sun was sinking low by the time they reached the gates of Diamond City. That meant staying another night, which they’d planned for, but was still annoying. In Sanctuary, they had a queen sized bed, and even in the Castle, they’d pushed two twins together to make the equivalent of a king. Here it was a skinny twin, smaller than usual. They slept close, anyway, but it still got uncomfortable.

“Shit, maybe you were right, Arthur. Maybe we should just get a place here.”

“Live here? Me and you?”

“Why not?” She shrugged. “We’re closer than roommates now, anyway, and we can almost never get back to Sanctuary now. It’s central, close to the Castle, but without Preston underfoot. Privacy, Arthur, real privacy.”

“You sure you’d wanna do that? Just up and leave, start a new place?”

He’d wanted to say ‘with me’, but he just couldn’t manage to get the words out.

“Piper said there’s a place for sale, and I’ve got the caps stuffed away. It’s not like I have to spend ‘em on much, anyway.”

It was true, between being great at salvaging weapons and armor, and her semi-fame as General of the Minutemen, she usually made money off of trading, or at least spent very little. He’d managed to save a bit, too, here and there, though he didn’t doubt she had much more than he did.

“I could probably chip in, I guess.”

She gave him a withering look. “Don’t you dare. I’ve got plenty to spare, and I get better deals throughout the Commonwealth, anyway.”

“Well, we can talk about it later.”

They’d reached Nick’s office, knocking politely before they entered, as always. Nick said they were welcome any time, but it felt odd to just burst in. You never knew, after all. Even though he was a synth, one day he might have Ellie bent over the desk.

They were welcomed warmly, ushered quickly into the seats in front of Nick’s desk. While Nick took the seat in front of them, Ellie perched on the desk beside him. There were a few beats of silence, then Ezra took a deep breath in, letting it all out in a huff.

“So. There was definitely information, though it wasn’t exactly what we hoped. I still have no idea what it was they were trying to do to us, but I can tell you that it wasn’t just us. Every vault, and I do mean every single vault, was the site of experimental testing. And it wasn’t just on the so-called volunteers.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, a curse muttered under his breath, while Nick and Ellie exchanged a quick glance.

“Though the tests on non-volunteers seemed to be less . . . invasive, it still took place, and that was the only thing I could find any reference to. My vault, 111, the people who all thought they were just being sheltered were apparently part of some sort of cryogenic freeze test. One, 95, was some sort of drug rehabilitation chamber. Or not, because they imported more drugs to be taken out later, after they were clean.”

She pulled out the holotapes she’d made, pushing them across the desk at Nick.

“This is everything I could find. There was a map of local vaults nearby, and it would probably be good if we could manage to visit at least some. But, well, there’s something more pressing right now.” She swallowed hard, obviously tense. “It’s all on one of the tapes, but the regional head? He mentioned in a few memos that he was meeting with someone from C.I.T. The Commonwealth Institute of Technology. There are emails, too, from the science department, involving some references to the ‘testing’ Vault-Tec was doing for them. In one, at least, they refer to C.I.T. as The Institute. That can’t be just a coincidence, can it?”

Nick sighed. “It could be, but I doubt it. Especially given the fact that there are rumors that the Institute arose from the smoking ashes of C.I.T.” He took the tapes, sticking them in the pocket of his jacket. “This is big stuff, kid, if even half of it turns out to be true. And, given what I’ve heard of the Institute, I’m starting to get a sneaking suspicion I know what kind of testing they did on you two. I’ll get started analyzing these tapes, see what I can find. You two, keep doing what you’ve been doing. If you find any vaults, be sure you give ‘em a good once over. Maybe even go back and check the old vault you pulled me out of, if you get the chance.”

Ezra nodded. “We’ll be staying here tonight. Should we comeback in the morning, or give you more time?”

“Give me more time than that. I’d like to have a good, thorough look, make sure I don’t miss a thing. If this is like it sounds, it could add a whole new layer of terror to the faceless boogeyman that is the Institute.”

As they left Nick’s office, heading to the Dugout, Ezra asked Arthur if he was hungry, or just wanted to head to bed. After the day they’d had, she wasn’t feeling up for much eating. The anxiety of what she’d discovered had her stomach in knots, and that was buried under a layer of exhaustion. In the end, they decided to split a noodle bowl, and headed to bed.

The next morning, Arthur woke to a key being tossed on the bed beside him.

“Talked to Geneva this morning. Now we don’t have to sleep in these tiny beds anymore.”

Ezra turned to finish packing up as Arthur rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He sat with his legs hanging off the bed for a minute, trying to arrange the information he’d just been given into something coherent. Slowly, consciousness regained its hold on him, and awareness rolled in.

“Wait, now. I told you I’d contribute to it, you ain’t had to go and do all that.”

She strolled over to him, putting her hands on her hips.

“And I told you I had it. Save your caps for something else. I have everything I need, I get good deals everywhere, and I still have some caps leftover.” She put a hand under his chin, lifting it slightly. “I wanted to do this. I want you to have a home here with me, if you’d like. And if you don’t want to live with me, well, you’re still welcome any time.”

She stroked her thumb across his chin, barely aware she was doing it, but the gesture sent shivers through his body. Bringing both of his hands up to hers, he took it away from his chin and placed his lips softly against her palm. Her breath caught as the warmth of his mouth against her hand made her body flush with heat, and she leaned towards him, putting her knee on the bed beside him. Slowly, his hands found their way to her hips, drawing her closer. Every breath, every second between them seemed like a lifetime, as the tension between them pulled tighter, and tighter, and tighter. His pulse raced as she tilted her head slightly, her face inching towards his.

“I guess we’d probably better get going, huh?”

Her breath was a whisper across his mouth, both of his hands resting at the small of her back. He rubbed gently, fingertips making small circles across the surface of her shirt, and felt her back arch slightly with a barely perceptible gasp. 

“Probably should.”

Neither moved, frozen in the moment, unsure. How could he understand that she desperately wished his fingers would slip beneath her shirt, tracing those same patterns against her tender skin? Why would she know that he wanted her to move forward, crossing that last bit of space to close the distance between their mouths? One of them had to break, sometime, somehow. 

She leaned back, leaving only the ghost of her longing against him. He didn’t reach for her, didn’t want to put pressure on her to do anything she didn’t want, and she assumed he was reacting only out of obligation. It began to occur to her that maybe she shouldn’t be expecting him to share her bed, or be her constant companion. Maybe she was holding him back, keeping him from moving on into his own life.

They’d barely stepped away from the Dugout before they heard a voice beside them, belonging to someone who looked vaguely familiar, but they couldn’t quite place.

“So . . . you’re the two that have been busy clearing the Commonwealth the past few months? I gotta say, I kinda expected something a lot more badass.”

Ezra stopped on a dime, rounding on the newcomer and backing him into a wall.

“Who the fuck are you and why the hell are you here?”

She couldn’t have been any more threatening if she’d had a knife to his throat. He held his hands up in surrender, then tilted his head down to look over his sunglasses at her.

“Ah, there’s the venom I’ve heard so much about. Easy, General, I’m on your side. In fact, I think you might be interested in what I’ve got to say. Sounds like you could use a valuable ally, as well as some information. Maybe about a certain . . . Institute?”

She turned to Arthur, surprise and question in her eyes. Wordlessly, she was asking his opinion, wondering if they should trust this man. He eased his way in, his body looming threateningly.

“Why the hell should we trust you?”

His voice was low and gravelly, not a voice you wanted to hear three inches from your face, especially when you knew he was one of the best shots in the Commonwealth and likely had a gun in easy reach. Still, this bizarre stranger smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

“You shouldn’t. But I can help you. Better yet, I’ve got friends that have some pretty intimate knowledge about the workings of the Institute. You’ve heard of the Railroad, right? Freeing synths, fighting bad guys all over?”

Arthur and Ezra shared another glance, and he knew she was thinking of the holotape they’d found next to her bag the last time they’d stayed at the Dugout. At the time, they’d assumed it was someone else’s, left behind and hidden until their moving around had dislodged it. Now, it seemed as if it had been put there intentionally, likely by the man standing in front of them. As they relaxed, he let himself drop into a more serious demeanor.

“Look, we’re as interested in whatever’s going on here as you guys are. The Institute is never good news, and if they were in bed with Vault-Tec, well, it would add a whole new level of sinister to an already terrifying situation.” He sighed. “We’re careful about who we deal with, and if we weren’t sure there was something to this, then I wouldn’t be here. But we need you, and I think you need us. Just . . . come with me. If you don’t like what we have to say, you’re free to go, and you’ll never hear from us again.”

Ezra turned to Arthur, who gave her a curt nod, then turned back to the other man.

“Fine. But if this is some kind of joke, or trap, I promise, you won’t live to see another fucking day. I will end you.”

The man grinned. “Of course, beautiful. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	16. Underground

“So,” the stranger said as they moved towards the gates of Diamond City, “the name’s Deacon. And you,” he pointed at Ezra, “are the new General of the Minutemen, leading them into a new era of prosperity. Nice. Not something I would’ve expected from someone who was just a waitress in a crummy diner before the war.”

“How the hell did you know that?” Arthur growled.

“Relax sparky. I do my research. The same way I know you were just a small time criminal in a gang that wanted to be bigger than it was. The ‘enforcer’ or whatever. Big man with a bad attitude who tried to run away when things got bad, tried to change his life. Too bad you got caught.” Deacon clicked his tongue. “But, hey, if you’d been successful, you’d be dead right now, and you’d never have met this lovely lady.”

From behind his sunglasses, Deacon winked at Ezra. Lovely wasn’t exactly the right word for her. The woman was a force of nature, blowing through the Commonwealth like a hurricane, and righting wrongs like she was a god. Whole books had been written about women like her, the kind who were a thousand times bigger than themselves and changed the course of the world without ever realizing it. He could’ve written stanzas on just the color of her eyes, or the way her hips moved when she walked. For the first time since . . . well, since before, Deacon found himself wanting. Everything about her called him like a siren song, drawing him into depths he knew might drown him, but, damn, would he die with a smile on his face.

As he lead them into the abandoned Old North Church, taking a few ferals out in the process, he couldn’t help but wonder where this little partnership was going to go. Des was gonna be thrilled that the Minutemen were on their side- he’d watched them long enough to know she’d be on board with it, and the guy with her followed wherever she went, like an overgrown puppy. Not that Deacon could blame him.

Once they’d cleared the tunnels beneath the church and Deacon had opened the door, the three were greeted with bright lights, stern faces, and a minigun pointed at them. A quick once over from Arthur told him these were people who knew what they were doing. Big gun, minimal force, but effective. Bright lights, right after darkness, to throw off the intruder, give them the upper hand. And nothing that identified any one of them as the leader. 

The red haired woman in the middle tossed her cigarette away.

“Who are you?”

Deacon materialized from behind them, where they didn’t even know he’d slipped.

“News flash, boss. These two are kind of a big deal. Been watching them for ages. She,” he gestured towards Ezra, “is the new new leader of the Minutemen- y’know, the one that’s been kicking ass all through the Commonwealth, striking fear in the hearts of Raiders, keeping settlements safe from ghouls and super mutants? Even took out a deathclaw.”

He moved to put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, dropping it quickly when he saw the glare on his face.

“And this gentleman happens to be the best shot in the whole damn Commonwealth. Hell, maybe the whole country. Between the two of them, they’re an unstoppable force. You want a win against the Institute? We need them on our side. Plus, they happen to have a vested interest in finding out exactly what we wanna know.”

Ezra wanted to ask what that was, but she didn’t get the chance. The red haired woman stepped forward, her eyes flashing between the two of them. 

“I’m Desdemona, the leader of the Railroad, and I have a question for you. The only question that matters. Would you risk your life for your fellow man, even if that man is a synth?”

Ezra rolled her eyes, and Arthur heard her curse under her breath, so he answered for them both.

“We risk our lives every damn day. Don’t matter to us if it’s human or synth.”

Desdemona hummed in approval, then turned to walk away, tossing an invitation to follow over her shoulder. Low spoken threats were muttered at them as they passed, but they ignored them, focused only on finding out exactly what was going on. They entered what looked to be a large abandoned crypt, now filled with desks, supplies, and people who were busy with god only knew what. A very obvious hub of activity, and at the center of it stood Deacon, talking to Desdemona quietly. While he whispered, her eyes were fixed on Ezra, flicking occasionally towards Arthur. Eventually, Deacon silenced, leaning easily against a pillar with his arms crossed in front of him. Desdemona gave a brief nod, then approached them.

“Alright. If even half of what Deacon said about the two of you is true, he’s right. We need you. The problem is, we’ve just come out of a major disaster, and we don’t have the time or the agents to train you right now. The long and short of our mission is this- we rescue synths. They are created by the Institute, formed by fusing nanotechnology with human genetic material. They think, they breathe, they feel, but the Institute treats them as tools.”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “Two hundred years in the future, and slavery’s still a goddamn issue.”

Desdemona smiled, clearly pleased with his assessment. 

“We know as much as it’s possible to know about the Institute without actually going there. Deacon told me you suspect that they’re connected to C.I.T., and you’re absolutely right. They were founded primarily by the scientists who survived the war, idealistic fools with incredible knowledge and absolutely no oversight. The connection to Vault-Tec, however, is new information for us.”

She lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag and blowing the smoke only halfway away from them. For a few long seconds, she stared them down, waiting for them to blink, to offer more. Arthur knew the technique well. If you leave enough silence, eventually the other person will offer more information, just to fill the quiet. That’s why he said nothing, only crossed his arms and returned her stare. 

She blinked first.

“We’re willing to do everything we can to help you explore this connection, but our help comes at a price. Deacon joins you.”

Arthur wanted to object. He wasn’t overly fond of the man, who lived so deep in bullshit it was amazing he could even see. But he knew they needed this, and that Ezra would do anything to hold onto it. It was written in her eyes, the desperation when she looked at him to get his opinion. She wouldn’t accept if he didn’t agree, but she’d always wonder. He gave her a small nod.

“Fair. But he’ll have to pull his share with us. We’ve got more to do than just chase the Institute, and an extra pair of hands would help lighten our load.”

Deacon approached them from where he stood, cutting off any answer Desdemona was about to give.

“Come on, boss. You really think I’d sit back and let you guys have all the fun?”

Desdemona rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I won’t allow anything that endangers our primary mission. Deacon can brief you on our basics, and give you your first assignment. As far as our end is concerned, you have no official affiliation with us. I expect you to say the same, should you be compromised.”

“Right-o, ten four, over and out,” Deacon answered for them. “We know the deal. Give ‘em a little credit, they’re not exactly new to this, Des.”

Deacon put his hand between Ezra’s shoulder blades, leading her to a quiet corner of the room and leaving Arthur to chase behind them. A white knot of jealousy began twisting in his stomach. It wasn’t like she was interested in him, it wasn’t like he owned her or something, she was free to pay attention to whoever she liked, just like he was. But he cared for her so much that some days it threatened to swallow him whole. He could barely breathe next to her without feeling nervous. To see someone else just waltz in, so obviously interested in her, and lay on the charm the way Deacon did- it just wasn’t fair. 

When they were off to themselves, Deacon turned to face them both, and Arthur couldn’t help but notice the way he let his hand slide down Ezra’s back slowly, lingering at her waist. For a second, he felt sick, so nauseous that he was afraid he’d vomit right there.

“Okay, look. I know Des doesn’t wanna train you, but she doesn’t know exactly how little you’re gonna need. So, instead of making you run some worthless errand, I’ve got another plan in mind. It’s big, and it’s dangerous- too much for me, but I bet with the three of us, it’d be easy. How soon can you be ready?”

“How urgent is it?” Ezra asked. “We have some things we need to take care of first, if we can. I’m trying to move house, to a more centrally located area, so I’d like to get that done before I take on any new obligations. Arthur and I were just heading to the Castle to let them know.”

Deacon hummed in thought. “Well, it’s not super urgent, but the faster we get it done, the faster you’re in, and we can find out what’s really going on.”

“We haven’t been back to Sanctuary in nearly a month, so we need to go and get our things from there. And we have to stop by the Castle first, and probably on the way back. I’m thinking a week, maybe less. If your mission is nearby, and won’t take long, then we can do that first, but I can’t move it past that. When we’re in Diamond City, we’ll be close to the Railroad and Minutemen headquarters, and more use to both.”

“Alright, boss. I’m thinking you can head out to the Minutemen, give them a little heads up about your plans. Then we move out. I’ll meet you at the highway just outside of Lexington, and we’ll work our magic. Then, you can head to Sanctuary.”

There was a bit of back and forth, conferring between parties, but eventually everyone agreed that was the best plan. With more suspicious eyes on them, Arthur and Ezra left, this time through the back way. As they walked back towards the Castle, Arthur grumbled under his breath, until finally Ezra couldn’t take it anymore.

“You unhappy with our little arrangement, Arthur?”

“The group? Hell no. I think they’d be real useful, and I can appreciate what they’re trying to do.”

She raised an eyebrow. “But . . . .”

He sighed. “But, I ain’t to happy about our new ‘partner’ in this ordeal.”

“Why’s that, exactly?”

“He keeps . . . lookin’ at you. Flirtin’. I don’t like it.”

Much to his chagrin, she laughed.

“He’s a fucking spy. Being charming is practically his job, he just doesn’t know how to turn it off. Or maybe he’s trying to throw us off guard, or get information from us. Anyway, he’s a bullshit artist. I wouldn’t believe one damn thing out of his mouth.”

“It ain’t his mouth I’m worried about. It’s his goddamn hands.”

She laughed again, looping her arm through his. “Well, you’ll be there to protect me, Arthur. Besides, I’m sure his interest is strictly professional. We’ll get the job done, find out what we need to know, and cut ‘em loose, if we need to. Then it’ll be just you and me again.”

“Yeah, and Preston Garvey. Man would crawl in your ass if he could.”

Sticking her tongue out at him, she bumped her hip against his fondly, and he returned the gesture with a smile. The rest of the walk was spent in quiet conversation, with nearly no distractions. It was peaceful, for once, and they enjoyed the break.

Thankfully, the situation was similar at the Castle, with no major issues that needed tending to. Garvey was happy to see them, relieved that Ezra had come back unscathed, but the joy fell from his face when Ezra asked to speak to him. He followed her into her quarters, mouth pulled down in a frown of worry.

“I’ll be frank,” Ezra said, turning to him. “I know that the Minutemen are needed all across the Commonwealth. You’ve clearly done well while I was gone, and the settlements are readily lending one another a hand. But, as you’ve said yourself, it’s important that I maintain a presence. Right now, everything I own remains in the northwest corner of the Commonwealth, in a home that I chose once I left the vault both for its familiarity and its difference. That’s not sustainable.”

She moved to sit down at the table that had been moved in since they’d been gone, rubbing her hand over the short fuzz covering her scalp. Preston sat across from her, ill at ease, while Arthur leaned in the doorway. When she glanced at him, he gave an encouraging nod, and she locked eyes with Preston again.

“Arthur and I will be moving out of Sanctuary. It’s important that I’m more centrally located, making it faster to get wherever I’m needed. This place is good, almost central.”

Garvey took a breath, smiling, about to tell her how relieved he was that she’d be moving there permanently, but she stopped him.

“It’s almost central, but not quite. And, like it or not, Preston, I cannot make the Minutemen my entire life the way you have. I appreciate the respect and trust you’ve shown in me, appointing me the General, and I intend to remain so, unless you want to replace me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, General. You’ve done more for the Minutemen in these months than anyone has done in years.”

Ezra nodded. “Again, I appreciate it, Preston.”

“But I don’t understand. If you’re not going to be moving here . . . ?”

“Diamond City.” She said it flatly, without emotion. “More central, and a hub of information, particularly with the connections we’ve made there. There’s also a few two way radios, like the one here, so I’ll be easy to reach. We’ve got a personal matter to attend to, then we’re gathering our things from Sanctuary and moving. I’ll certainly let you know when we’re settled. Meanwhile, I’ll regularly check Radio Freedom. We can set up a schedule, if you like.”

“I think that would work, General. We’ll discuss it tomorrow, after I’ve informed the men.”

With that he stood, leaving her alone with Arthur. As soon as he was out of sight, she collapsed in her chair, letting her head rest on the table. As he made his way over to her, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat.

“Garvey seems a little cold now,” he remarked, slipping into the chair beside hers.

“Think he got the message clear enough? That I’m not interested, in him or in devoting myself to the Minutemen one thousand percent?”

“Let’s hope.” He rubbed small circles between her shoulder blades. “Come on,” he stood, pulling her to her feet, “let’s get you some rest. It’s been a long day.”

She followed him to the bed readily, shucking the clothes she’d worn the past couple of days and exchanging them for one of the giant t-shirts she loved. As she drew her legs beneath her, the neck fell loosely off of her shoulder, and, as he often did, Arthur thought to himself that no one had a right to look that gorgeous in an old t-shirt. But then, he’d have thought she looked good in anything. Or nothing, for that matter.

He slipped into bed beside her, hoping she’d been right in what she’d said about Deacon. Maybe she didn’t have an interest in him, but the thought that she could end up with someone like Deacon, so slick, so utterly charming, with such a loose idea of the truth, it absolutely killed him. She deserved better. Even if that wasn’t him.

That night, Arthur’s head was full of nightmares, and every one involved Deacon and Ezra.


	17. Jealous Love

The figure had it’s back to them as they approached, seemingly unaware. If it was the person they expected, it was probably just an act, but the identity was hard to make out beneath the layers of clothes.

“Deacon?” Ezra ventured, and the figure turned, smiling.

“You like it, gorgeous? Wastelander camo. Doing what I do, I’ve gotta keep my identity secret, right?”

“Yeah, well, if you wanna keep so secret, you probably oughta change sunglasses from time to time.” Ezra rolled her eyes. “It would help.”

“Hey, you’re lucky I didn’t do one of my face swaps. Every few years, I go under the knife, whole new face and everything.” He threw an arm around Ezra’s shoulders, leading her away. “C’mon. There’s a tourist up here. He or she will tell us everything we need to know.”

Arthur followed them a few steps behind, jaw clenched uncomfortably. Deacon’s hand was always on her somewhere, and he kept throwing out those flirtatious comments and giving her looks over the top of his sunglasses. Even when they took out a few ferals on the way, he made it a point to compliment her on her shots, whistling in appreciation. And it definitely didn’t escape Arthur’s notice that when they approached the tourist, and Deacon told her to take point, he hung back for a second to drink in how well her jeans fit the curves of her body.

To make matters worse, Ezra was flirting back, making Arthur feel completely sick to his stomach. He tried to comfort himself with the fact that he was the one who got to sleep beside her at night, the one she went to when she was upset, but it didn’t help, nor did the memories of that morning at the Castle. If anything, it frustrated him even more. All of their shared experiences, their bonding and closeness, felt like it was tossed out the window in favor of someone whose whole existence was a lie. 

He only barely caught the fact that they were about to attack the Railroad’s old headquarters, and that it had been infiltrated by the Institute. Since the place was filled with synths, and they’d set up a minefield out front, Deacon said they’d be using the escape tunnel to go in. A part of him wanted to object. It would be incredibly dangerous, likely more so than even when they’d gone into Arcjet, and Arthur didn’t want to trust their safety to Deacon. Still, Ezra trusted him, or at least seemed to, and he had to admit that any betrayal wouldn’t make sense. The Railroad needed info just as much as he & Ezra did, and there wouldn’t be any value in them dead. 

He followed behind Ezra, who followed Deacon into the murky water in front of them, then ducked into an old sewage tunnel covered with vines. Ezra tripped slightly on the way in, stumbling forward, but before Arthur could steady her, she was in Deacon’s arms. He wore a wide grin, holding her against his chest and giving her another of those winks.

“I knew you’d fall for me eventually.”

Ezra stood, slapping his arm, but the grin on her face said she wasn’t serious. After that, Deacon grew cocky, even bolder than he had been, despite the life threatening circumstances. The only time he showed any kind of seriousness was when he was faced with his fallen comrades, fellow Railroad agents who’d died doing their best to protect its secrets. Though he looted the bodies, same as anyone else would, he did so with a certain amount of respect. Often he even spoke a few words, identifying them and maybe sharing a few of their strengths or achievements with the other two. Once it was over, though, he slipped back into his old persona, the same flirtatious jokes, the same “accidental” touches. And if Arthur could see his eyes, he was sure they’d be wandering all over her body.

God, Deacon knew he ought to be paying more attention to his surroundings, and less to Ezra- Fixer, he corrected himself, that was the name she’d chosen, and Bullseye for grumpy over there, and he should be using them even in his head. He should definitely be paying attention, but, damn, the woman was a piece of work. The way her eyes darted over the situation, taking it all in and moving quick as a wink, or how she took down synths and made it look so smooth and beautiful, like she was dancing. Everything she did was so fucking perfect, it made him feel like some kind of oaf, clumsy and brutal.

He found himself crouched next to Arthur, waiting while Ezra snuck ahead to activate some turrets. It hadn’t escaped his notice that the man had been giving him some serious dirty looks, especially when he flirted with Ezra. They definitely seemed close, but he’d never seen any serious indication that they were together, though he was pretty sure that at least one of them (hint, hint, Arthur) wished that they were. Still, though he’d done some pretty shitty things in his lifetime, breaking up a relationship wasn’t exactly on his list of things he’d hoped to do. He cleared his throat softly.

“Hey. Uh, Bullseye?”

Arthur tried not to groan in aggravation. 

“What?”

“So, uh, what’s the status on Fixer?”

Shit. Was he asking what Arthur thought he was asking? Here and now, of all places and times? He raised a curious eyebrow, and Deacon continued, still whispering.

“I mean, like, is she . . . well, I mean . . . are you two . . . together?”

“Friends.” Arthur said flatly, not even bothering to look at Deacon. Whatever he felt, whatever he wanted the situation to be, he wasn’t gonna lie.

“Just friends?”

Arthur nodded, slowly, and Deacon let out a breath. He smiled, mostly to himself. As far as he was concerned, that was as good as a go-ahead. Yeah, he was pretty sure the guy had a thing for her, but, hey, all’s fair in love and war, right? He’d make his play, and, if he wanted, Arthur could make his, and Ezra could decide who she wanted. If Arthur wasn’t bold enough to step up, well, that wasn’t Deacon’s fault.

The prospect of making a move on Fixer gave Deacon a renewed vigor and focus to get the job over and done with as quickly as he could. It also made him seriously amp up his flirtation. Every time they cleared another section, he found some new way to compliment her or tease his interest.

“Damn, boss, you made that look easy. I gotta say, I never thought watching someone take out a room full of synths would make my list of ‘things I find irresistible’.”

“That really got my blood pumping. Should we make out now, or would you rather wait ‘til we’re alone?”

“Is that a laser pistol in my pocket, or am I just REALLY excited by the way you took down that last synth?”

Ezra just laughed at everything he said. Sometimes, she’d make a comment in return, something bout him getting excited way too easily, but mostly it went ignored, other than the laughter. Deacon didn’t seem to take it as discouragement, though, infuriating Arthur more and more by the second. And Ezra wasn’t exactly making him feel better about the situation. Not that it was her job. Hell, as far as she was concerned, he didn’t have any feelings for her. He could hardly complain if she accepted someone else’s advances, if he hadn’t made any.

The thing was, he didn’t know how. So much weird stuff had gone on between them, and he was shit at words and feelings, anyway. He felt like, since they were already so close, it should have been easy. His hand had been in her pants, for Christ’s sake! He’d gotten her off, and her him! But that was, he thought, part of what made it so difficult. If they were supposedly “just friends” and did that kind of thing, what could he do to let her know how he felt, besides coming right out and telling her? And that wasn’t an option, not with his stumbling mouth. 

By the time they reached what they were after, some prototype or something, Arthur was utterly miserable. All he could think of was how, despite how much he disliked him, he wished he could be as smooth as Deacon was. He always had some comment or compliment, and no matter what she’d said before, it looked like Ezra was falling for them. She certainly seemed to smile at him a lot. And when he got all sad and misty-eyed, seeing the agent who’d given his life to protect the prototype, she readily wrapped her arms around him to comfort him. As if Arthur wasn’t already jealous enough.

At least once it was over with, Deacon left them in peace. Arthur had been half afraid he’d insist on following them to Sanctuary, tagging along just to get closer to her. Instead, he took the prototype, thanked them, and went on his merry way. Still, Arthur couldn’t help but sulk, kicking rocks and shoving his hands deep in his pockets. When he had to kill a few bloatflies, he took particular satisfaction from pretending they were Deacon’s head.

When they first returned to Sanctuary, it was Codsworth who greeted them first. He fussed over them both, pushing purified water into their hands and prattling on about every little thing that happened while they were gone. Apparently Marcy and Jun were settled into her old house completely, and there had been a minor radroach infestation in their new one, which he proudly announced that he had eradicated. Sturges happened upon them while going to check the turrets, and filled them in on the slightly more important things, like the fact that news had gotten out, and they had five new settlers among them. When he heard they would be moving, he obviously understood, but still expressed his regret.

“It’s been real nice having y’all around. I’m gonna miss you.”

Ezra gave him a quick hug. “If you’re ever in Diamond City, you’re more than welcome to stay with us.”

He nodded, then walked over to the hose with Arthur to help him do a few things, while Ezra went to find Mama Murphy. She was slouched in her chair, eyes closed, but as soon as Ezra kneeled before her, she smiled.

“Ezra, honey, there you are. Was worried you forgot about me.”

“Of course not, Mama Murphy. But I do have something to tell you.”

The old woman shifted in her chair, leaning back. “You’re moving away from us. Over to the great, green jewel. You’re gonna find something there more precious than diamonds, mark my words.

Ezra frowned. “You’ve been taking chems again.”

“Listen, I’m an old woman. I’ve had a good run. If the chems are gonna kill me, they’ll kill me. There are worse ways to go. Besides, you’re gonna wanna hear what I saw.”

“What’s that, then?”

“You’re heading into danger again, girl, just like when we first met you. Only this time it ain’t a deathclaw. It’s something much bigger. You’ve stumbled on something bigger than the whole Commonwealth.” She patted Ezra’s hand comfortingly. “But don’t worry. You’ve got more help than you know, and you’ll make it through in one piece. But I’ve seen two big hearts, both circling you, like moons around your own. One’s gonna have to break, or it’ll be all three.”

“Whose hearts are those?”

“You know who I’m talking about, even if you won’t admit it. They’ll protect you through anything. But only one can have you, and you know it’s only one you want.”

With that, she closed her eyes again, a wheeze rattling through her chest as she leaned back. Ezra hugged her, whispering in her ear.

“Please, Mama Murphy. No more chems.”

The old woman made a vague gesture with her hand, refusing to give a straight answer. Reluctantly, Ezra left her alone. There wasn’t much she wanted to take with her, but what she did, she still had to pull together. Besides that, she wanted to make sure that anything she wasn’t taking got a good home.

Arthur was seated in the living room, rolling the clothes Ezra had given him up and slipping them into his pack. He barely glanced at Ezra when she came in, even when she greeted him. Instead, he kept rolling, then stuffing, though maybe with a bit more force. Though she was concerned, she opted to give him the space he needed, heading to the bedroom to work on her own packing.

Soon, she had most everything sorted into what she wanted to give away, what she’d be taking, and what she wouldn’t worry about. Sturges had told them that he’d keep the house free for them, in case they decided to come back, even for a visit. She’d balked at the idea at first, but he insisted, and she had to agree that it would be nice to have the option. Diamond City was nice, but she hated the crowds and the constant artificial lighting. Even if it was a dull, faded version of what it used to be, she needed the sky.

By the time she’d changed for bed, she still hadn’t seen Arthur, so she moved to the living room to find him still seated there, no longer packing. Instead, he was staring into space. Walking over to him, she gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Arthur? You okay?”

He looked up at her, saying nothing. Though she couldn’t put her finger on what, she knew something was wrong, so she moved to sit beside him. After she’d situated herself with her legs curled under her, she faced him, putting one hand behind his head and gently squeezing his thigh with the other.

“Arthur, is something wrong? Did I do something?”

“No. No, of course not.”

“Do you not wanna move? Do . . . do you not wanna live with me anymore?”

The crack in her voice as she said it broke his heart almost as much as the thought of losing her from his life did.

“No. It ain’t that. Not at all.” He sighed. “I guess . . . I guess I worry that maybe you don’t really wanna live with me.”

“Of course I do! What would give you that idea?”

“Well, you didn’t let me help you pay for it, for one thing.”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the real problem, but it was definitely a part of it. Since she seemed to be so friendly with Deacon, he’d been a little worried that maybe she’d get tired of him, or that he’d outlived his usefulness.

She crawled into his lap. “Arthur,” she whispered, putting her hands behind his head, “if that’s what this is about, then I promise I’ll let you decorate the whole damn place. Whatever, however you want. Put your mark all over it so you know you own it, too.”

His hand was resting on top of her thigh, something he only realized as he absentmindedly began stroking his palm against the soft skin there.

“What if that ain’t it?”

Her face was moving slowly closer to his, until her forehead was resting against his temple. The warm tickle of her breathing against his neck, coupled with the softness of her skin, was making him think more and more about that morning at the Castle. Especially when she started running her hand across his chest slowly. Without realizing it, his hand had moved around her leg, still gently rubbing, until his fingers were inches away from the edge of her underwear. Her breathing quickened as she hoped, more than anything, that he’d keep going, finally put an end to all this dancing around and wondering, but his hand remained frustratingly still. She leaned in, making his breath catch in his throat as her mouth opened slightly. 

“Arthur.” 

She whispered his name, and he swore he could hear desire there.

“Arthur . . . I-“ she paused, swallowing hard, willing herself to say what she felt, but her mouth wouldn’t obey. “You . . . you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

The tension drained from his body, and she wished like hell she could take it back. He definitely was the best friend she’d had, that was true enough. But it wasn’t what she had wanted to say, not at all. His palm left her thigh, and she could practically feel the way he drew away from her, back into himself. Another ruined chance.

That night in bed, they stayed more distant than usual, both of them wishing they could, somehow, make things different.


	18. Rounding Home

By the time the pair returned to Diamond City to claim their new home, they’d settled into a slightly uneasy version of what they’d had before. Though Arthur cared about Ezra as much as ever, he’d resigned himself to being her friend, thankful that he was in her life at all. It had hurt, no doubt about that, especially when he noticed that she wasn’t curling as close to him as she once had, and would probably be raw for a long time. But he was no stranger to heartache, and, with time, he would heal.

Meanwhile, Ezra was putting on a smiling face, when inside she felt like she was falling apart. Arthur had been withdrawn and distant since the night she’d called him her best friend. She’d been trying to give him some space, hoping he might come back around, but it seemed like the more she gave, the more he withdrew. But then, if she moved close to him, or tried to touch him the way she used to, he flinched or grew tense. 

All she wanted was her friend back. Yes, she’d hoped there was more there, but clearly she’d been wrong. He seemed to be offended at even being called her best friend, so he certainly couldn’t want to be more. But still, she missed their closeness, the laughter and joking around. Curling up beside him, letting him put an arm around her when she had nightmares about the vault. Cheering him up when she knew he was getting sad about the past. The way they not only looked out for each other and watched each other’s backs, but looked after each other personally, too.

When they reached the door of the place, she let Arthur unlock and open it, then followed him in. Both of them stood there for a minute, wide-eyed, then burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting anything fancy, but this is ridiculous!” Ezra said through gasps of laughter. “I mean, empty is one thing, but this is just junk!”

“You mean you ain’t gonna build a bed out of concrete blocks? Or wooden pallets?”

She shook her head. “Honestly, there probably is some stuff we can use in here, but it’s gonna take a lot of cleaning up. On the plus side, there’s already electricity,” she flipped a switch, turning on an overhead light, “and I’ve heard I can get us tapped in for running water. Normally, that’s reserved for the folks in the stands, but, you know, the General of the Minutemen has a little pull.”

“It sure would be nice to take a real shower again, instead of the river washes we been doing. Even a good bath.”

“I’ll make it a priority,” she said, as she climbed the ladder to the overhanging loft. “There’s a bed up here, but it’s the same as the tiny ones from the Dugout.”

“We‘ll find something bigger. I’ll build a frame from some of the junk if I need to.”

He pushed past her gently to move to the next level, while she stood there slightly stunned. She’d honestly expected that he’d take the opportunity to split up, sleep in different beds. He hadn’t seemed keen on sleeping beside her the last few nights, and she’d assumed he was doing it out of necessity or obligation. Hopefully, that meant good things for the future of their friendship.

They spent most of the afternoon cleaning up, making a decent dent by the time they sat down to eat that evening. While they poked at their food, they discussed the things they wanted to do, and what needed to be a priority. Aside from running water, which wasn’t exactly as pressing as they’d claimed, they decided the first thing they needed to do was fix someplace decent to sleep, and to sit. The floor would get old fast. Besides that, it was mostly about making the place feel a little less cold and cavernous.

As Ezra put away the last of their food, Arthur rummaged through his bag, finally pulling out a glass bottle. With a small smile, he presented it to her, watching as she broke out into a giant grin.

“Our whiskey!”

“Couldn’t think of a better reason to open it than a new house. Thought we could christen it proper, our own little housewarming.”

He opened it, wiping the mouth of the bottle on the inside of his shirt, then passed it to her for the first sip. She took it and drank appreciatively, closing her eyes as the burn worked its way down her throat.

“Good stuff.”

She passed it back, and he drank deeply while she pulled out a sheet to throw over the couch. Both of them took off their shoes and got comfortable, chatting about one thing or another as they passed the bottle between them. As the liquor loosened their tongues, they found themselves getting into their lives before the war, and how they’d come to be there. Arthur was more open than he’d ever been before, telling Ezra about losing his mother, his abusive father, and how he’d come to realize that Dutch had taken advantage of his vulnerability in getting him to come with them. 

“He didn’t see a strong, capable young man, like he’d said. What he saw was a scared fool of a boy who had no one. Someone who he could talk down to, use the doubt I already had in myself to make me stick beside him. For a long time, I thought he was right about everything. Some things he was, like how wrong it was to men enforcing the law for money, prisons being run for profit. Even about how everybody deserved their own piece of freedom. But he acted like, because we thought how we did, the law wasn’t supposed to apply to us. Made us no better’n the goddamn Pinkertons.”

He stared into the distance for a little while, thing took a long draw from the bottle, shaking his head.

“Anyway,” he continued, focusing on her, “how’d you end up married so damn young? How old were you again?”

She scoffed. “Eighteen. Barely. The bastard would’ve married me sooner, if it had been legal. And him already twenty-six.”

“Big difference.”

“Yep. And believe it or not, I was the mature one.” She took a sip from the bottle, making a face at the past. “Man wasn’t capable of doing a damn thing for himself, but nothing I did was ever good enough. Wanted a mother, not a wife. And a blow up doll. God forbid I have desires of my own. I was there to service him, that was it. Not much different than my parents, really. I was there at their convenience.”

She took a large pull from the bottle, looking at it sadly. When she spoke again, her voice wavered with emotion.

“I just wanted to believe that somebody loved me. That I was worth something, that I mattered. Guess the joke was on me.” 

His heart ached for her, that she seemed to really believe she wasn’t important to anyone. She made a difference to so many people. Hell, everyone she met, probably. Where would the Minutemen be without her? For that matter, where would he? Oh, he’d been surviving before she came along, sure. But that was it. All he gave a damn about was making it to the next day, then the one after that. He’d have spent the rest of his life moving like that, from one day to the next, never bothering to settle down, and wouldn’t have cared. But now, well, now he had a home, a place to belong. He had someone that made him want to see beyond the next day, on and on into the future. 

He had hope, for the first time in his life. And he didn’t want to lose it.

He opened his mouth to speak to her, but before he could, she sat the bottle down and stood up. With a stretch backwards, and a yawn he thought was less than sincere, she announced she was going to head to bed.

“Should I . . . I mean,” he cleared his throat, “do you want me to come?”

She gave him a wry smile. “Bed’s small. Just like the Dugout. You sure you wanna share?”

“Ah, hell,” he shrugged, “ain’t the first time.”

She let him trail behind her up the ladder, then cup his body behind hers in the bed. Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe they just couldn’t stay upset with each other. Either way, she slept easy. 

Arthur, on the other hand, didn’t want to sleep at all. The alcohol had him feeling sad and sentimental, thinking about the last time he’d fallen in love, or at least what he guessed was love. He’d been a kid, too, not much older than Ezra, although the marriage had never materialized. God, what an idiot he’d been, thinking he could have two lives, be what two different people wanted. It never would have worked, even if he’d been able to try. Of course, it wouldn’t have worked anyway, he could see that now as clear as day. You can’t force yourself to be what someone else wants. Either they love you for who you are, or they don’t love you, not really. 

He loved Ezra. That was something he was more sure of every day, every time he looked at her. When he was curled behind her close, like he was now, he was happier and more content than he ever could have believed life would afford him. He’d stay there forever, her warmth against him, her smell, the softness of her skin. She was the closest thing to home he’d ever found.

Carefully, he propped himself on his elbow, looking down at her sleeping face. Her hair was beginning to grow out again, into a barely there pixie cut that made her look even more like something that belonged in another world. Not even prewar, but something more fantastic, unrealistic, like a fantasy or fairy tale. He thought of the life they might’ve lead together, if they’d met each other instead of the people who’d broken their hearts. If the file Nick had given him was correct, nobody else in the gang had really made a go of it. Most of them died well before the bombs dropped, caught by the Pinkertons, or each other. John died anyway, though he’d tried to break free. Charles just disappeared, which was probably for the best. Even Sadie had cut loose, doing some “freelance work” for other agencies before disappearing as well.

Would it have even mattered if they’d met so young, barely eighteen and full of hope? Would she have even had him, already taken in by Dutch and full of anger and hate? He liked to think so. Maybe not as a lover, but as a friend, leading him away from the most bitter parts of himself. Bathing him in that soft, warm light of hers, teaching him that he wasn’t the terrible, hopeless case he thought he was, that his body was good for more than just abusing and being abused. She’d certainly taught him that in the past few months.

It was better that they hadn’t met, he decided. If things had turned out poorly, their paths going much the same, she’d want nothing to do with him, even if they’d both made it this far. If things had gone well, it’s likely they’d both have died when the bombs dropped. To have her here, now, was a gift. It was stupid of him to worry about relationships and feelings, being in love with her and her not being in love with him. He loved her, and being with her made him happy, regardless of the rest.

He went to sleep with her wrapped in his arms, his nose nestled in the crook of her neck. When he woke, happily, she was still there, awake and watching him, a little smile twisting the corner of her mouth. She prodded gently, and he grunted, pretending to go back to sleep.

“Arthur.” She poked him again, a little more forcefully. “Arthur!”

Playfully, he opened one eye at her. “Whatchu want, woman?”

“We need to talk to Nick,” she said, pushing herself up. “And I want to try and find some stuff for the house. Maybe a new bed! Or, new enough, anyway.”

He let her tug him off of the bed, pulling him down towards the door. Watching the way she moved, practically bouncing in her excitement, put him in a good mood, one that followed him as she dragged him through the marketplace, haggling with anyone who offered up something for their new place. Word traveled fast in Diamond City, so everyone knew they were moving in, and most everyone hoped to make money off of it. By the time they made it to Nick’s office, they’d secured almost everything they needed, and she’d arranged for water to be installed within the next two weeks. It would take some time, but they were well on their way to a cozy little place.

Nick’s demeanor as they entered didn’t completely kill their mood, but it certainly dampened it quite a bit. He’d gotten wind that they were back in town and readied all the information he had found among the holotapes, snippets of half deleted information he’d coaxed out and put together. It didn’t exactly paint a friendly picture.

The fact was, Vault-Tec was the reason the Institute existed at all. Given their lucrative government contracts, they’d read the writing on the wall, and prepared themselves accordingly. Their partnership with C.I.T. had focused heavily on helping humanity, or at least their pick of humanity, survive. They’d provided extensive underground labs, test subjects, even bribing or threatening the finest minds to join them. Most of the government money had been funneled directly to them, along with plenty of stolen technology. In return, Vault-Tec executives at the highest level would have a place among them, and first pick of any treatments that proved valuable.

“And that’s not all,” Nick continued. “I couldn’t find any direct information on your marks, but I did find multiple references to some highly aggressive ‘personal’ bioengineering projects. It was so hush-hush they were only referred to sparingly, and never with any detail, but my gut tells me it’s got everything to do with you.”

“Any idea where we should look next?” Ezra asked.

Nick shook his head. “Unfortunately, not a clue. Everything suggests that information was limited to highly restricted terminals, mainly those within the Institute itself. And nobody has any idea how to get there, not even me, and I am a synth.”

“Well,” Ezra slumped back in her chair, “shit.”

Nick chuckled. “That’s one way to put it.”

“If they can come out to take people for whatever experimenting they wanna do, there has to be a way in and out. We just have to find it.”

“Good luck with that. There’s a lot of folks would love to know, if you find out.”

As they stepped out of Nick’s office, Ezra sighed, turning to Arthur.

“I guess we need to head over to the church. We were supposed to check in, get briefed and everything.”

“Guess so.”

They walked in silence for a few moments.

“You still don’t like Deacon.”

It wasn’t a question, she knew it was the case. He bristled any time the Railroad was brought up, and since he agreed that it was a worthwhile organization, Deacon was the obvious reason. 

He stopped, turning to her. “I don’t. But you’re a grown woman. It ain’t my place to tell you who you ought to get close to.”

“Get close to? We’re just working with him.”

“Yeah . . . ,” he paused, “but it’s clear he’s got something for you.”

She wrinkled her nose, frowning. “I guess, but . . . .”

“Look, you’re a healthy woman. If he likes you, and that’s what you want, I ain’t gonna stop you.”

It felt like a punch to the gut, like he was trying to push her off onto Deacon to be rid of her. Maybe he wasn’t as uninterested in Piper as she thought? Or just wanted his freedom. Maybe that’s what all this was about. Maybe he’d just been humoring her, all this time.

As her heart twisted in her chest, she found herself biting her lip in an attempt to stifle tears. The rest of the walk to Railroad Headquarters was completely silent, and when she found Deacon lying heavily to Desdemona about what had happened, she didn’t bother to contradict him. She felt lost again, like the whole world had fallen out from under her, just like when she’d first left the vault. As they were accepted into the folds of the Railroad, she returned the smiles, thanked the people who were congratulating her, but nothing felt real. 

They were given three missions immediately, checking on an old safe house, picking up a cache, and their first escort mission, but Ezra could hardly bring herself to care. It felt like she’d lost the whole world, all over again.


	19. Railroaded

For months, they put in work on the house in Diamond City. Anytime a mission for the Railroad or Minutemen took them nearby, they put as much time in as they could. Whenever he wasn’t distracted by his other duties Deacon helped, mostly using the time to flirt with Ezra, or show off. Arthur hated it. He hated seeing his face, hearing his voice. He hated the way he stood so close to Ezra all the time, practically drooling over her.

But he hated himself more.

He’d practically told Ezra to fall for Deacon, and now it looked like she might be. 

It started with the smiles. Little, shy smiles at Deacon any time she caught him staring at her, and he’d respond with this giant grin. Over time, he started “helping” her with things, which mostly consisted of him pressed against her back, arms over hers, or his hands on her waist to “steady” her. He shared his food with her, or got her to share hers with him, eating from each other’s fingers, lips staying a little too long. When they’d rest, he’d pull her down between his legs, rubbing her scalp, massaging her like she was a damn cat. Then, the goodbyes. Long, lingering hugs, with his hands wandering a little too far down, his face buried a little too deep in her neck.

It wasn’t any better on the road. Missions were just another way for him to show off, picking locks and hacking terminals- like Ezra wasn’t twice as good, anyway. A sudden sound, and he’d have to pull her back, pressing her against the wall with his body, whispering soft words against her ear. And she’d look up at him, eyelashes fluttering almost as fast as her pulse, her mouth half open.

What really pissed Arthur off was the way he’d started introducing her as his wife, and Arthur was her brother. Like it was his way of staking his claim, making sure that Arthur knew he didn’t stand a chance. As if he needed a reminder. The way her hand in his had been replaced by Deacon’s arm thrown lazily over her shoulder was enough.

He hadn’t been pushed out of bed yet, but he figured it was just a matter of time. Already she stayed downstairs with Deacon, on the sofa, until late, climbing over him into bed with barely a word. They hardly talked like they used to, sharing their thoughts, their hopes for the future. Those conversations had been replaced with superficial discussions about the next mission, or the next project they wanted to do for the house. Sometimes, when he was across the room from her while Deacon was busy talking her ear off, he thought he saw something like sadness in her eyes while they were fixed on him, but he assumed it was his imagination. 

He couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Ezra had been trying to leave him alone, distance herself from him since the day he’d talked to her about Deacon. It killed her, but she tried. It turned out he seemed to be right about Deacon having a thing for her, so she tried to focus on him, instead. He certainly wasn’t bad looking, or unkind, and he was definitely happy to provide her physical attention, but he wasn’t Arthur.

Mama Murphy’s words came back to her, about the two hearts surrounding hers, and she wanted to scoff out loud. The old woman clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that only one of them was there because he wanted to be. Though it was true enough that there was only one she wanted, it wasn’t the one who wanted her. 

There were nights she was tempted to stay downstairs with Deacon, like he clearly wanted. If his flirtations were any indication, he’d be more than happy to give her any kind of attention she wanted, but what she wanted was Arthur. So she still climbed up the stairs to sleep beside him, even if he all but refused to touch her now. There was still his warmth, his smell. He was the one who felt like home.

Deacon was patient, or at least he was trying to be. Ezra certainly seemed interested in him, returning his flirtation and letting him cozy up to her without complaint. Nights he stayed over, after Arthur went to bed, there was plenty of cuddling, holding her close against him, brushing his fingers over her skin. Sometimes, he’d try to move things a little further, letting his lips trail softly over the tender skin of her neck, reveling in the little shiver it drew. He’d even worked his way up to planting light kisses, letting his tongue trace the skin, and he could feel her body tense against him, hear the soft, wanting sighs. But, inevitably, that was when she’d get up and tell him goodnight, heading up the stairs. It was . . . frustrating, to say the least. She’d leave him rock hard, and all he could do was head to the bathroom to jerk himself off, all while wishing he was with her.

Finally, he decided it was time to be direct. If she was interested, she’d say so. If not, well, then he could at least stop bothering her. 

They’d come in after picking up another dead drop to sit down for a bite before relaxing into the evening. Arthur said almost nothing, and Ezra kept glancing between the two of them, almost nervously. Unlike usual, Deacon kept his mouth mostly closed, earning him a few confused looks. Truth was, he was nervous. It had been years since he’d felt anything for someone, so long he’d figured it wasn’t in the cards- and that was okay. His work for the Railroad wasn’t exactly conducive to personal connections, anyway. Now he was sitting beside a girl he’d do most anything for, and he was about to be, for once, completely honest. It was terrifying.

As if he knew something was up, Arthur went to bed early, leaving the two of them alone, the soft sounds of the radio drifting in the air. Deacon and Ezra sat on the sofa, listening, while Deacon did a terrible job of trying to make small talk. He kept fidgeting nervously, running his palms over his thighs, until finally, turned to face Ezra directly, putting his arm on the back of the couch.

“Hey, Ez, can we talk? Like, seriously?”

She nodded. Carefully, he took off his sunglasses and laid them on the table, revealing his eyes to her for the first time.

“Blue. Pretty.” She whispered with a soft smile, and Deacon felt his stomach flip.

“Yeah, well, I want you to know that, for what may be the first time in my long, glorious existence, I’m being completely honest.” 

He swallowed hard before reaching out and taking her hand, wrapping his around it tightly. She could feel the sweat on his palms, and wondered what had him both so serious and so nervous.

“Ez . . . Ezra. I like you, alright? I mean, like, I’m crazy about you.” He bit his lip nervously. “I think about you all the time, and when I’m with you, it’s like-“ With a dark sigh, he continued. “It’s like, for the first time in more years than I can count, I’m happy. Hell, I’m positively giddy. If I could spend all my time with you, believe me, I would.”

He stopped, looking directly into her eyes and gently stroking his thumb across her cheek.

“Look, I don’t know if you feel the same way. I’m not even asking you to. But I wanted you to know.” He took her face in his hands, leaning in close. “Ez, I’d do anything for you. Anything. I’d quit the face swaps, stop running around the Commonwealth, spying- hell, I’d give up the Railroad for you. Because you’re absolutely amazing, any anybody who can’t see that is a goddamn moron.”

He leaned in closer, slowly, giving her the time to pull away if she wanted to, but she didn’t. And when his lips finally met hers, he thought he’d combust on the spot. God, her lips were so sweet, and, when she parted her lips and his tongue met hers, it was so warm and soft. He hadn’t exactly done a lot of kissing in recent years, but he didn’t remember it being anything like this, so silken and inviting. Her kisses were better than the best sex he’d ever had in his life, and even more intimate. They left him wanting more, more, and more.

When she grasped the back of his head, pulling him forward, he followed her down eagerly, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. He felt so unbelievably goddamn lucky, like somehow everything bad he’d ever done in his life, no matter how shitty, had been completely overlooked to bring him here. Her grunts and moans, hot breath panting into his neck, were driving him crazy, getting him so worked up he felt like he could get off just from kissing her like this. Then she wrapped her legs around his, grinding against him, and he just started begging whatever was up there listening that he wouldn’t cum then and there.

“Jesus, Ez,” he panted in her ear, “you’re so fucking hot.”

She just rubbed herself against him harder, nuzzling into his neck and trailing her tongue along his skin. When she bit him gently, he let out a strangled groan, and he knew damn well if he didn’t distract himself somehow, he was gonna come out of this looking like an inexperienced kid. Frantically, his hand worked its way down her side and over her hip, searching for the front of her pants. When he found the button, he ripped it open, tearing her zipper down and sliding his hand in, beneath the silk and lace of her underwear.

The second he brushed across her, she moaned licentiously, and it wasn’t hard for him to guess why. She was so damn swollen and wet, lips already spread wide as his finger ran between them. As he imagined how good it would feel to press inside of her, he had to suppress a shiver of pleasure.

Deacon’s lips were soft against her neck, his mouth finding every spot that made her gasp and moan. It seemed his tongue was talented in more ways than one, as good at bringing pleasure as it was crafting lies. Just a few sweet kisses had her moaning, squirming beneath him.

But he wasn’t Arthur.

She pushed the thought away, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer, letting her nails scrape gently across the back of his scalp. He moaned in pleasure, apparently liking the sensation, so she did it again. This time, he fairly attacked her neck, biting against spots that had heat pooling between her legs, her underwear already clinging to her with dampness.

It wasn’t the same as Arthur made her feel.

She returned his bites, loving the way he groaned appreciatively, pushing at her harder, hands scrambling over the surface of her body.

Arthur’s sounds were so much sweeter.

She wrapped her legs around his, pulling him close, feeling the hard line of his cock pressed against her. God, he was thick, full and wanting, and she could tell it wouldn’t take much to send him spilling.

But he wasn’t like Arthur.

She pressed her face into his neck, taking in his smell, grinding herself against him like the pleasure would make her thoughts leave. Instead, all she could think about was Arthur. His touch, his smell, the sound of his voice, his breathing. Despite the fact that she was genuinely aroused, enjoying Deacon’s touch, he wouldn’t leave her thoughts. Even as Deacon slipped his hand into her pants, stroking her, drawing her towards an inevitable orgasm with skillful fingers, she could only wish for Arthur, instead.

She stopped rocking against his touch, falling back against the couch. Immediately, he stopped, bringing a hand up to cup her face.

“Everything okay, Ez? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” She fought back tears. This wasn’t what she wanted. “No, Deacon, you were perfect. It’s just . . . .”

“Right.” He pulled himself to his knees, letting her swivel to sit upright before moving to do the same. “Gotcha. I kinda feel like an idiot now.”

She shook her head. “Don’t. It’s not you, Deacon. It’s not. I like you, really I do. I just . . . .”

He looked down at his hands, folded in his lap and not really covering the erection he still had. “I get it, boss.”

“Please don’t hate me, Deacon.”

He sighed heavily, turning to her and touching the side of her face.

“I don’t hate you, Ez. I don’t think I could. You’re amazing. I meant every word I said.” 

He watched a tear roll down her cheek, his heart aching. He wanted to take her in his arms, hold her and tell her everything would be okay. But, as good at lying as he was, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t say something he couldn’t be sure of, not to her. Instead, he lowered his hand.

“This about grumpy upstairs?”

She nodded, tears spilling in earnest at the same time he felt his heart might break in two for the second time in his life. He needed air, he needed to be somewhere else, to breathe without her face in front of him, away from the place he’d thought he’d be the happiest guy in the Commonwealth.

He stood, moving towards the door, and she followed him. She was hunched over, clearly hurting, and as much as he wanted to be angry, he couldn’t. He cared about her too much. Just as she was about to close the door behind him, he stopped her.

“You know, for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure he feels the same way about you. I don’t know why the hell he won’t come clean, why he watches you from a distance and gets mad when someone else gets close. But I know this, Ez. You deserve someone who’s honest with you. Not someone who hides his feelings away, pretending he’s taking the high road, or letting you live your life in freedom, or some other bullshit like that. That’s a fucking coward. I hope to god, for you, that he comes around. You deserve to be happy.” 

He took a deep breath before reaching out to her, gently stroking the side of her face.

“But if you ever get tired of waiting, if he won’t open his damn mouth, and you need somebody, someone who’ll give you everything you deserve, everything you need- I’ll still be here. Always.”

He turned and walked away, leaving her sobbing in the doorway. Though he wanted to go back to her and comfort her, he knew it wouldn’t do either of them any good. So on he walked, away from the woman that, for a few brief moments, had made him happy.

Ezra locked the door behind him, then returned to the couch, throwing herself down and sobbing. It didn’t seem right, to go crawl in bed with Arthur, after what she’d just done with Deacon, no matter how much she didn’t want to be alone. She cursed herself, her stupidity, as she thought about everything. She’d fallen completely in love with Arthur, but, apparently, he wanted nothing to do with her, not that way, anyway. Deacon did, but, despite the fact that she did like him, he just wasn’t Arthur. She was so inexplicably in love with a man who didn’t want her, she couldn’t be with a man who did.

For the first time, she wished she hadn’t survived the vault.


	20. Don’t You Glow

Arthur was alone in bed when he woke the next morning, with no indication that Ezra had ever joined him. No surprise, given what she and Deacon had gotten up to last night. He’d done everything he could to ignore it, her soft gasps and his hungry moans. It reminded him too much of the morning at the Castle, of how he’d once been in Deacon’s shoes, but too much of a damn coward to take the opportunity presented to him. He could have let her know how he felt, he could have told her that damn morning, instead of keeping his mouth shut out of fear of ruining things. It’s what he should have done. Marched up to her, pulled her into some private place, and told her that he knew what happened, that he’d wanted it for ages, and, if she’d let him, he’d make her feel like that every damn day of her life. Instead, he was left a third wheel, listening to someone else give her what she wanted, what she deserved. At least until he’d shoved the pillow over his head.

He hesitated to go downstairs, not wanting to be faced with the sight of them together on the couch, still naked from last night’s pleasure and curled together the way she used to cuddle with him, but he needed the bathroom. So he steeled himself, coughed a little to make some noise, and took the rungs of the ladder a little heavier than usual. It was only polite to give them a chance to cover up, or let him know they needed a minute.

In the end, he didn’t need to worry. Ezra was alone on the couch, fully dressed, if disheveled, turned sideways with her legs hanging off. Arthur scoffed to himself. Apparently, Deacon couldn’t be bothered with being there for her the morning after. Just fucked and left, the bastard. As he shook his head, all Arthur could think was that he’d never leave her alone like that. If he was lucky enough to be in that bastard’s place, she’d wake up with his arms around her, knowing just how much it had meant to him.

He went through his morning routine, washing, changing, and eating breakfast, without a peep from Ezra. By noon, he was beginning to worry a little. She was still asleep on the couch, only barely having changed positions. Quietly, he walked to the couch, kneeling in front of her. That was when he noticed how puffy her eyes were, remnants of what looked like dried tears on her face. Anger welled inside of him. If that bastard Deacon had hurt her . . . .

Her eyes fluttered open, as red as he’d imagined they’d be. 

“You okay, Ez?”

She tried to force a smile, the concern in his voice making her heart break that much more. He cared for her so much, just not in the way she wanted him to.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

He frowned, clearly not believing her. “What happened? Did . . . did Deacon-“

“Nothing happened, okay? I’m fine!” She snapped at him, jumping off the couch and running to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

With the door closed, she let herself start sobbing again, then realized he could probably hear her, so she bit her lip to force herself to stop. As she steadied herself on the sink, she tried to pace her breathing, will herself to calm down, but every time she thought she had control, her lip started quivering again. She splashed water on her face, but it didn’t help.

Then there was a gentle knock.

“Ez? Ezra? It’s Arthur.” He cursed himself. Who the hell else would it be? “Can I come in?”

He was probably the last person she needed to see right now, no matter how much she wanted to see him. Clearing her throat, she called out to him.

“I’m fine, Arthur.”

His voice dropped to that low, soothing tone he always used when she’d had a nightmare.

“You ain’t alright, Ez. Just . . . just tell me what happened, okay?”

What was she supposed to say? That she’d tried to take his advice, go after Deacon, and all she got out of it was the realization that he was the only person she wanted? Even if he didn’t want her? Yeah, that would go over great. He’d tried to push her off on Deacon and all it did was make her want him more.

“Ez,” he sighed. “Ez, please. I just wanna help.”

He pressed his face to the door, wishing she’d open it, and thinking himself a fool for it. Him in love with her, so much he could hardly stand it, had to half listen to her fuck another man, then run to comfort her when that man left her hurting. He was a fool, a goddamn fool, helplessly in love. He’d run to her again and again, even if she stepped all over him, until he was completely broken, and he’d still let her have the pieces.

Ezra slumped over the sink, trying her best not to break down again. He must think she was so horrible, so stupid. So weak, not even capable of moving on from someone who didn’t want her. Why on earth was he still here, living in the same house? 

A sudden knock at the door drew their attention. At first, Arthur planned to ignore it, but after a few seconds, it came again, more insistent. With a frown, he stood, moving to open the door. If it was Deacon, he’d be giving that bastard a piece of his mind. He had no right to use Ezra like that, to act like he cared, and-

When he threw open the door, he was surprised to see Nick standing there.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to see you too. What’s got you so wound up?”

“Nothing,” Arthur muttered. “Just Ez’s been upset this morning.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Don’t know. She’s locked herself in the bathroom and won’t tell me.”

He threw himself down on the couch, holding his head in his hands. He felt helpless, even more so with Nick here, and he hated it.

“You mind if I talk to her?”

Arthur gestured towards the door, watching as Nick walked over. He gave a quick, gentle tap, then leaned his face in close.

“Ezra? It’s, uh . . . it’s Nick. Look I don’t know what happened here, and I know it’s not really any of my business, but . . . well, we’re worried about you. Your man out here’s beside himself.”

Her man? Nothing could be farther from the truth. She knew Nick didn’t mean anything hurtful by it, but, damn, it stung.

He tried again.

“Listen, you don’t have to say anything. I just stopped by because I have some news for you.” He waited a few beats, glancing at Arthur. “I’ve done a bit more digging, and I think I might have a lead. A former Institute scientist who ran away. I think he might have some info on your case.”

There were a few seconds of silence before the metal scrape of a knob turning, and Ezra stepped out, wiping her eyes on her shirt. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. Just seeing her, that she was okay physically, helped temper some of his worry. Though her eyes were red and she’d clearly just been crying again, both men were polite enough not to mention it. They moved to the couch, Ezra facing Nick and Arthur just beside her. At first, he moved to put an arm around her comfortingly, then realized it was probably better if he got out of that habit. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed, and Ezra felt as if she might burst into tears all over again.

Nick paused to glance between them before frowning slightly, then speaking.

“I can’t say for sure how accurate this information is- it was from a terminal entry a few years old, found in the C.I.T. ruins. Some guy brought it in for scrap, to sell to the surplus shop, but I convinced ‘em to let me go through it, first. Good thing, too.” He leaned back, pulling out some notes he’d made and handing them to Ezra. “Apparently, this scientist, Virgil something, was working in the bioengineering department, and, somehow, got word of some old experiments- prewar experiments, decided to see if he could improve on what had already been done. Data’s a little fuzzy after that, but apparently something went wrong. Had to leave the Institute, go into hiding. His last entry makes reference to the Glowing Sea.”

“Well, that’s ominous,” Arthur sighed. “How the hell do we get through there?”

“Power Armor.”

Both men turned to look at Ezra. Her mouth was a hard line, determination on her face. She shrugged at them both.

“Power Armor’s made to withstand radiation as well as fire and ballistic damage. I’ve already got a set in Sanctuary, though it’ll take me time to get it. Then I can go.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at her. “I might need something to protect me, too, y’know. Or were you planning on you and Deacon heading out there?”

She flinched at the way he’d thrown Deacon’s name at her, reminding her that she’d fucked up with more than one man. Then sheer stubbornness settled in.

“I’ll go alone.”

“Like hell.” Arthur gave her a hard look, which she ignored.

Nick glanced nervously between them as Ezra stood, throwing her hands up. Suddenly he felt like he was intruding on something, something personal he had no business getting into. It hadn’t escaped his notice that the two had been a bit colder to each other than usual, and with Arthur bringing up Deacon, well, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

“I ain’t letting you go alone into one of the most dangerous places in the whole damn Commonwealth! You’ll get yourself killed!”

As Arthur chased after her, she spun around to face him.

“Jesus! Why the fuck do you even care, Arthur? It’s not like I belong to you. Shit!”

Arthur looked like he’d been slapped.

“Guess you’re right,” he said quietly. “You belong to someone else.”

Ezra glared at him before stomping off upstairs. A few seconds later, he heard the roof hatch being opened, then slammed shut. Emotions swirled inside of him, heady and uncertain. He felt like he’d missed something important, like there was a secret he hadn’t been let in on, but he had no clue what it could possibly be.

Meanwhile, Nick whistled from the corner.

“What the hell was that about?”

Arthur ran his hand over his face, throwing his head back before turning to look at Nick.

“Honestly? I got no idea.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Really? It, uh, doesn’t happen to have anything to do with a certain unnamed spy, does it?”

“No! Maybe. Hell, I don’t know.” He threw himself on the couch, and Nick sat back down beside him. “

“Look, I know it’s none of my business, so you tell me to get out if you want. But it’s more than a little obvious to this old private eye that, well, you might have some feelings for her.” He sighed, holding up his hands as Arthur started to object. “Like I said, it’s none of my business, and, hell, maybe it’s not even true. But it’s real obvious that our friend Deacon, he does have feelings for her. And now, he’s acting on ‘em. You really gonna let her go, without telling her how you feel? Provided that you do feel something, of course.”

Nick stood, brushing off his pants as he headed towards the door.

“Like I said, none of my business. But if I were you? I wouldn’t wait for someone else to get the drop on me.”

Arthur nodded a goodbye to Nick, then leaned back to stare at the ceiling. It was easy for a Nick to tell him he should speak up, he hadn’t been there last night. There was no getting ahead of Deacon, no beating him to the punch. What was done was done. He sighed, thinking about everything that had happened to him in the past, and every moment he’d spent with Ezra. Always just a bit too late, that was him. Too late to get the money. Too late to stop the trouble. And now? Too late to get the girl. 

Ezra bawled on the roof of the house she shared with the man she loved more than anything else in the world, feeling positively miserable. She knew she shouldn’t have yelled at Arthur the way she had. He was just looking out for her, protecting her like he always had. Before, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But now . . . now knowing that he cared about her, but not that way was more painful than she could have ever imagined. Every single act of concern was another reminder, another needle in her skin. She knew it wasn’t the brightest idea to think of heading into the Sea alone, but there were only two people in the world she’d trust to watch her back, and she’d just screwed up with both of them. The thought of having to be that close for that long, with either of them, was more than she’d be able to handle. 

A part of her wondered if she should just slip away, disappear into the night without a word. She could pretend she was someone else, take a page from Deacon and get a face swap. Or she could follow Garvey’s example, head to the Castle and throw her life to the Minutemen. God knows he’d be happy about it. None of those things actually fixed the problem, but what would? She couldn’t stop feeling what she felt for Arthur, she couldn’t force herself to feel more for Deacon, and she couldn’t change the way either of them felt about her. 

She’d spent the last few years of her life, before the bombs, trying to make a new life for herself, to live without the love she’d thought she’d found. It had hurt like hell, but she’d been making it. Then, suddenly she was in a different world, a different time, with no idea how to cope, until she’d met Arthur. Being with him, with someone who cared for her, supported and helped her, had been like learning to swim when she’d been on the verge of drowning for so long. She hadn’t planned on falling in love with him. He’d just been an easy friend, filling a space inside of her she hadn’t thought needed filling. He’d worked inside of her, deeper and deeper, little by little, until, suddenly, the thought of being without him became unbearable.

When she’d lied to Danse that night, in the police station, she’d told herself it was purely for amusement, playing a kind of joke on someone they might never have to see again. But, then, it had felt so good to pretend. Holding his hand, curling close, his arm around her- it had felt so much warmer. And she’d looked up at him, her eyes full of what she’d assumed was false admiration and love, and realized that, maybe, it wasn’t as false as she’d thought.

How do you fall out of a love you never meant to fall in in the first place?


	21. Bitter Pill

Arthur slipped around the corner in Diamond City, leaning on a wall. He’d told Ezra he was going out to get some supplies, but there wasn’t any guarantee she’d heard him. She’d been distant since that night with Deacon, keeping herself locked away and speaking to him only when she didn’t have another choice. That was sort of why he was outside of the security office right now, waiting for the shift change. Moments later, a man with a dark pompadour exited, sunglasses reflecting the overhead lights. Though he never glanced towards Arthur, he knew he was there. His shoulders tensed beneath his jacket as he walked, slowly, to the corner where Arthur stood. He leaned against the other wall, and spoke in harsh tones. He might not be able to hate Ezra, but Arthur was fair game, however unjust.

“So why are you here, sparky?”

“Got news.”

Deacon raised an eyebrow. “Alright? Shoot.”

That might have been a poor choice of words, considering who he was talking to.

“Need to head out, take a trip. Fill you in on the details later, but we got a bigger problem first. It’s Ez.”

Deacon gave up all pretense of aloofness, jumping around the corner to look Arthur in the face. Concern was written all over his face, and now that he had a good look at Arthur, he looked pretty ragged, too.

“What’s happened? She okay?”

“Well, she is, and she ain’t. Long and short of it is, we got a lead, from Nick, and she wants to head out. Alone.”

Deacon relaxed a bit. “She’s a big girl, she can handle herself, sparky.”

“Into the Glowing Sea.”

Deacon’s face dropped. “Damn, boss. Seriously?”

Arthur nodded. “Right now she’s mostly locked away to herself, getting ready. Says she’s heading out to Sanctuary to pick up her Power Armor, then she’s gone. Alone.” 

He emphasized the last word, like Deacon hadn’t heard him the first time. He’d heard, he was just stunned. Nobody he knew, nobody he’d even heard of would brave the Sea alone, not if they had a choice. And if they didn’t, they took a serious set of Power Armor and a Big Fucking Gun. Otherwise, they wrote out their last will before they left, cause they wouldn’t be coming back.

“Not gonna happen. There’s no way in hell she’s going out there alone.”

“My thoughts exactly. But she’s putting the stuff together right now to head back to Sanctuary, and says she’s planning on leaving the day after tomorrow. Wants to head straight out from there.”

“Then I guess we’re gonna have to find a way to get three good sets of Armor before then.” 

Deacon smiled one of his mile wide grins, the kind that usually set him on edge. That grin meant trouble, that he had some kind of devious and possibly dangerous plan. Today, though, it gave Arthur a glimmer of hope.

“Luckily, I’ve got connections. You up for a little late night excursion?”

That was how Arthur ended up trailing Deacon around the Financial District in the middle of the night, gritting his teeth and tolerating bad jokes and puns like his life depended on it. Which, it kind of did. Deacon had claimed to know of a few sets of Power Armor, none of which were heavily guarded. The first one was ridiculously easy to get to, locked up on a barge near Railroad headquarters. It was hidden among old storage containers, only visible after a lot of crawling and climbing, but it was a full suit, and a newer model than the one Ezra had currently.

“Found this ages ago,” Deacon remarked as he worked on hacking the terminal. “I’d have gotten it out, but, you know- not exactly subtle. Might’ve made my job just a bit harder.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. How in the hell did Ezra tolerate him, much less like him? 

He shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside. Whatever his personal feelings were, he needed Deacon. Not only because of the armor, though it was an enormous help, but also for Ezra. Deacon was probably the only person in the Commonwealth that cared as much about protecting her as he did, and the only person he knew that was foolish enough to go willingly into the Glowing Sea, searching for a man who might not even exist.

“So this scientist- Virgil? He knows a way into the Institute?”

Arthur had filled Deacon in before they’d set out, trying his best to make sure he knew what a long shot it was. He’d seemed as excited as they were, even if it wasn’t for quite the same reasons. 

“Man,” Deacon continued, “if that’s true, think of the possibilities. The number of synths we could help. Hell, we could take out the whole damn Institute. Get rid of the threat for good.”

“We’ll hold on, now. We ain’t even sure he’s real. Nick’s a good detective, and I trust him, but I just . . . don’t wanna get our hopes up.”

“Ah, c’mon, grumpy. Lighten up a little, try looking on the bright side once in a while!”

The door unlocked with a metallic hiss, allowing Arthur to pull it open. He and Deacon looked at each other and the armor for a minute before Deacon waved a hand towards it.

“You take it. A gesture of goodwill.”

Arthur cleared his throat, looking down.

“I appreciate the thought, but, uh, I ain’t real good with Power Armor.” 

He glanced at Deacon’s raised eyebrow, then sighed.

“Ez tried to teach me, but I just . . . couldn’t get it. So it’s best if you take it. I’ll take the next one, to get it home.”

“Uh, Arthur, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but how, exactly, are you planning on protecting Ezra if you can’t use Power Armor?”

“I can use it, I just ain’t good at it! I’ll practice, alright? Just get in the damn armor.”

Deacon grinned before pushing his way past Arthur and into the suit.

“Well, this is a fashion statement. How do I look?”

“Like a goddamn idiot,” Arthur mumbled.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that, sparky. Now, are you ready to get the next suit?”

Arthur nodded, and Deacon lead him- albeit noisily- through more twists and turns, up to a building with a large gold sign, reading 35 Court. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve scoped this out before. It’s gonna be a piece of cake.”

Arthur eyed Deacon nervously. Despite his confidence, Arthur couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The place was too clean, too orderly. 

“Deacon, something don’t feel right.”

“Relax. I told you, I checked it out. Disabled the tripwire, took out the Protectrons. I’ve done this kinda thing before. Besides, if something goes wrong, we’ve always got me in ‘the ultimate Power Armor’.”

Arthur couldn’t see his face, but he definitely sounded like he was grinning under there. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Deacon. If nothing else, he was sure Ezra wouldn’t stand for him getting Arthur in any kind of trouble. Well, pretty sure. But he’d always trusted his gut, and it had never been wrong. Right now, his gut was telling him that something was waiting in the building, somewhere, and it definitely wasn’t friendly. 

Still, they made it through the lower level without incident, and got into the elevator. The ride up was . . . awkward. Arthur wanted to ask Deacon about what had happened, why Ezra had been so upset, but he was also pretty sure he didn’t really want to know. He wanted to threaten Deacon, and tell him he’d better make things right with Ez, and he’d best take care of her, because she was a damn special woman, but he didn’t think it would go over well, and the last thing he wanted to do right now was start a fight. And a little, hidden part of him almost wanted to break down in front of him and beg him not to take her away, because she meant more to him than anything else in the world.

Deacon, on the other hand, was frustrated beyond belief. Obviously, Arthur cared about Ezra, enough to come and get the man who, as far as he knew, was his romantic rival, to help him protect her. But he was pretty sure that Arthur was still keeping his mouth glued shut when it came to telling Ezra. She wasn’t going to talk to him, because he was pretty sure she believed he wasn’t interested in her like that. And as much as he wanted to give good old Arthur a pep talk, tell him to go running to Ezra, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do that. Yeah, he was definitely a selfish bastard.

When they exited the elevator, there was an unlocked door and open safe, and Arthur raised an eyebrow at Deacon. Inside of his armor, he shrugged.

“I told you I’d checked it out already.”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head, but he couldn’t help but laugh to himself. It was exactly the kinda thing he would’ve done, back in the old days.

“You know, Deacon, if things were a little bit different, we might’ve ended up actually being friends.”

“Aww . . . that’s sweet, sparky. You gonna hand me a kitten and tell me you love me?”

“Smartass. I take it back.”

Deacon switched back to work mode. “Okay, you see these two chambers here? Inside each of ‘em is a big red button- you can’t miss it. There’s a trigger in the floor in front of each chamber that’ll open it, we push the buttons, then, pow, we’ve got our second set of Power Armor.”

It sounded easy enough, but Arthur was getting that feeling again that something was wrong, sending the hair on the back of his neck on end. He moved to the front of his chamber slowly, the nervousness within him rising. Just as he was about to stand on the trigger, he turned towards Deacon.

“Hey, I just-“

There wasn’t time for him to finish. In front of him, the chamber scraped open, and a very large, pissed off Sentry Bot emerged. He started to yell at Deacon, but he was busy dealing with his own Assaultron. Both men shot wildly, ducking for cover.

“Thought you’d already checked it out!”

“I DID check it out! Those bastards weren’t there last time!” Deacon screamed.

“Well they’re sure as shit there now!”

“Just shoot them!”

As they fired round after round, trying to take out the bots, Arthur cursed Deacon more than once. The stupid, smug bastard always thought me knew everything, had everything under control. Now he’d lead him into a firefight he might not win, and Ezra didn’t even know where the hell he was.

A lucky shot to the Sentry Bot’s fusion core took it out, and Arthur turned to help Deacon with the Assaultron. Even with the Power Armor, he wasn’t having a lot of luck, the beast bearing down on him and aiming a high temperature beam, even without arms. While it was focused on him, Arthur raised his gun, aiming at the head, and fired three shots in rapid succession. By the third, it was on the ground, and so was Deacon, knocked flat on his ass. Arthur crossed the floor to stand in front of him, trying not to smile.

“You okay there Deacon?”

“Oh yeah. Peachy.”

After Deacon had taken a few minutes to recover, he stood, taking off the helmet of his Power Armor. Reluctantly, he turned to Arthur.

“Thanks. For that.” He cleared his throat. “You know, saving my life and all.” He refused to look at Arthur’s face, staring at the ground instead. “Look, I’m not a hugger, but- yeah. Good talk.”

As if it had never happened, the two men went to their respective buttons and pushed. A section of wall between the two chambers slid open, revealing a set of nearly perfect Power Armor. Deacon stomped over.

“X-01. Nice. This set’ll be perfect for Ez.”

“Read my mind. Now help me into this thing.”

With a great deal of work and some clumsy stumbling, the men made it back to Diamond City just as the sun was rising. Through sheer determination, and a little of Deacon’s persuasion, they made it through the gates and into the house without incident. Both men had just climbed out, leaving the suits standing boldly in the living area, when Ezra started shouting from upstairs.

“Holy hell, what the FUCK is all that racket? Arthur, did you find a tractor to drive through the living room or som-“

She stopped as her eyes fell on the Power Armor. Slowly, she walked around each set, as the two men stood back, watching. After a minute, they shared a smile, and Arthur rubbed the back of his neck.

“Told you you wasn’t going in there alone.”

Deacon watched the way she turned to stare at Arthur, a misty smile on her face, and couldn’t help himself.

“And this little beauty right here,” he patted the X-01, “is all yours. She’s practically perfect, almost as good looking as you.”

Ezra rolled her eyes as she walked up to the set, running her hands over it.

“This,” she said, eyes flicking between the two men, “is pristine. And that one’s not bad, either. How in the hell did you get ahold of them?”

“Deacon had some connections.”

Ezra ran to Deacon, throwing her arms around him in a fierce hug, then grabbed his face in her hands and planted a hard kiss on his lips. Before he could get smug, or Arthur could get jealous, she did the same to him. Then she looped an arm through theirs, fondly nuzzling against each of their shoulders.

“There’s just one problem. If that ones mine,” she gestured to the X-01, “then which of you is going with me?”

“Both of us,” Deacon replied. “I’ve got a connection in Goodneighbor, and I’ll be getting mine there. Tonight. So, y’know, don’t wait up!”

With that, he disappeared out the door, leaving Arthur and Ezra alone and faced with each other for the first time since that morning. 

“I thought you hated Deacon.”

Arthur sighed. “I don’t hate him. I don’t really like him, but- I respect him.” For the first time, his eyes met hers. “I knew he wouldn’t want you going out there alone any more’n I did, and I knew you wouldn’t listen to me, or at least just me. So we talked.”

There was a loaded silence in the room, the air heavy with things that needed to be said. Somehow, Arthur doubted any of them actually would be.

Ezra sighed. “Arthur, I’m sorry.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why’d you say that?”

“Because I am. I haven’t been very nice to you lately. I’ve yelled at you, avoided you, given you the silent treatment- and you still worried about me enough to do this.” She waved a hand at the suits.

“Of course I did, Ez.” He looked at her, putting his hands on the backs of her arms to pull her into a half hug. “I care about you. Me and you, we been through a lot together. Been in a lot of tight spots, and got out of ‘em together, too.”

He put one hand on the side of her face, looking in her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Whatever happens, Ez, whatever we go through, whatever we find out, I’m always gonna be here for you.”

He pulled her against his chest in a tight hug, hoping that the tension in his chest wouldn’t turn into tears. For the first time in what felt like ages, she was close to him again, and it felt like coming home. 

“Arthur?” She said, burying her face in his chest. “Can we go to bed?”

He thought the wash of happiness filling his chest might burst him in half, and he looked down at her, smiling.

“Of course.”

He followed her up to the bed, slipping off his boots and dirty clothes while she settled in. He’d planned on taking a shower, but that could wait. Right now, the most important thing in the world was in bed beside him, and he curled around her happily, feeling like his world might finally return to normal.


	22. Beyond the Sea

“So we’re just waiting for Deacon, right?” Ezra asked for the thousandth time. “And you’re sure he said he was coming?”

“Definitely. Said he had to make a report to Desdemona, then he’d be over.” She frowned, tapping her foot impatiently. “Believe me, Ez, I’d just as soon get on the road, but I figure we owe him. He helped get the armor, after all.”

“I know. I guess I’m just . . . nervous. I mean, even with the Power Armor, it’s one hell of a risky trip, and we might not even find what we’re looking for. But if this Virgil guy is out there, he might be able to tell us something about our markings.”

“And if he can’t?”

“Then he can tell us where to look next. From all the info Nick gave us, it looks like he stumbled on something that was at least similar to what was going on in my vault. So, even if he knows nothing directly about the experiments Vault-Tec was running on us, he can tell us where he found the information.”

A heavy metallic knock sounded through the room, and Ezra went to answer the door, assuming it was Deacon. When she opened it, all she could do was start laughing.

“Oh my god, Deacon! This is ridiculous!”

She moved aside, and Deacon stepped into the room, wearing a set of Power Armor that was painted cherry red, with black flames across the chest, arms, and legs. When he removed his helmet, he was grinning underneath it, still wearing his sunglasses, of course.

“You like it? I figured subtlety was out the window anyway, so why not?”

“Deacon, you are without a doubt the tackiest spy in the Commonwealth.” Ezra smiled at him.

“Ouch, boss,” he replied, placing his hand over his heart in mock pain. “That hurts.”

She shook her head, turning to Arthur. He was obviously pretty nervous, despite the fact that they’d spent plenty of time lately training with his Power Armor. He’d probably never be completely at ease with it, since he preferred less electronics, but he’d gotten pretty good, more than good enough to put her at ease. It had helped that she’d made a few adjustments herself, giving him more control over things.

Deacon had certainly given them plenty of time for that. He’d picked up his armor the day after they’d surprised her, but refused to let them see it until time to go. That had to be worked around a few errands he had to run for the Railroad, Ezra’s work with the Minutemen, and the arrangements they had to make with both factions to allow them to be gone. Then, Deacon had all but disappeared for three days, until he finally left them a note the day before that he’d be ready. It had taken a bit of a push for them to get everything set that quickly, but they’d done it.

Deacon surprised them again by passing out guns that he’d apparently picked up while he’d been gone. He’d gotten himself some kind of cryogenic rifle, which Ezra eyed suspiciously. Her time in the vault hadn’t been forgotten, and she strongly urged him to keep it well away from her. For Ezra, he’d gotten a solar cannon- a highly concentrated laser rifle that was akin to lighting on command. She admired it for a minute, already thinking of some customizations she’d like to make, then she heard Arthur whistle softly.

“Damn, Deacon. Where the hell’d you get this?”

“Told you, I got connections in Goodneighbor. KLEO kept it put away special for me, over at Kill or Be Killed.”

“Gauss rifle?” Ezra looked it over quickly. “Nice. Powered by electro cartridges, uses magnetics to charge a totally manual shot. Perfect for you, Arthur.”

“Yeah, well,” Deacon looked down sheepishly, “you’re gonna be out there watching my ass, too. I’ll only be protected by the very best.”

“How very . . . magnanimous of you, Deacon.” Ezra poked.

“Don’t be so derisive. I know big words, too.”

“Look,” Arthur intoned, “can we just get moving? I’d rather get this over with as quick as we can.”

“Sure thing, boss. Ready Ez?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

She took a deep breath, and she and Arthur entered their Power Armor, following Deacon out into the Commonwealth. Initially the trip was uneventful, almost boring. Between the three of them and the Minutemen outposts, they’d done an exceedingly good job of clearing the Commonwealth of most threats. Of course, there were always pockets of feral ghouls, or bands of Raiders or Super Mutants, but they were few and far between these days. Instead, their worries were mainly stray insects or the occasional radstag. As they neared the border of the Glowing Sea, the land became much more hostile, and the creatures more frequent and unpredictable. By sunset, they were exhausted and on edge.

“I think we’d best stop for the night. It’s a risk, but better to go into the Sea rested than worn out.”

Ezra removed the helmet of her Power Armor. “I agree. If we’re at the end of our reserves and already jumpy, we’re less likely to make it back out. And I’d rather sleep before we’re saturated in radiation.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Deacon said. “We’ll take turns on watch. I’ll take first shift, you two get some rest. If I hear or see anything, I’ll wake you.”

They nodded, stepping out of their armor and stretching. While they ate, Ezra checked over the fusion cores they had. She frowned, then counted them again, and one more time after that.

“We’re gonna have to run on empties from time to time, especially before we get in too much danger. That X-01 is using more power than I thought it would. I’ve tried running it on minimal systems, but it’s still not gonna be enough. If we’re lucky, we’ll find a couple of cores, or maybe run into a trader, but I don’t want to count on it. The last thing we need is to run out while still in there.”

“Alright. I’ll tell Deacon when we change shifts, and we can run two empty at a time until we hit the edge.”

Ezra’s mouth twisted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Only one at a time is better for protection. I don’t want you two getting hurt.”

“Hell, I hate the stuff anyway, I’d prefer to go without.”

“Not an option, and not funny. I don’t want to lose you.”

They settled down against the wall, armor open in front of them in case they needed it in a hurry. Before long, Ezra was leaned against Arthur’s shoulder, fast asleep. Carefully, so he didn’t disturb her, he slipped his palm beneath hers, gently stroking over her hand with his thumb. This whole damn thing was crazy, as far as he was concerned, but that didn’t really matter. Ezra wanted to know, she needed to, and until she was ready to let it go, he wouldn’t either. It wasn’t that he wasn’t curious- far from it. But he’d poked enough hornets’ nests in his life before he bombs to know that, sometimes, knowing the truth wasn’t as important as staying alive. He was deathly afraid, sometimes, that her need to know would get her killed. That’s why he stayed, even if he thought it wasn’t worth the cost. Because any danger she faced, he wanted to be beside her.

The words Ezra head said to Arthur were ringing in Deacon’s head, like some kind of perverse taunt from the universe. ‘I don’t want to lose you.’ Like she couldn’t live without him. Hell, he’d known she was in love with him, though she’d never come out and said it. But to hear it, the way she’d said it so casually, felt like salt in the wound. He’d give his life for this woman, gladly, but she didn’t care about him. It made him feel bitter, dried up inside. So much for putting his heart on his sleeve.

But dammit, no matter how much it hurt him, he still wanted her to be happy. What a fucking joke. The selfish bastard he’d been in his past life, before the Railroad, before the first time his heart had broken, was apparently dead for good. For once, he wished he could resurrect him. It’d be nice to twist some facts, come up with a few lies that would put Ezra’s heart squarely in his palm. But she’d hate him if she ever found out, he knew. More than that, he’d hate himself, and that was the real bitch of it. He’d hate himself for tricking her, for gaining her by lies and half truths. It would make any happiness being with her gave him completely irrelevant.

He was already having a hard enough time with his decision not to tell Arthur how in love with him Ezra was. He’d done it entirely out of self preservation- why tell your rival something that’ll give him an edge, after all? But the time he’d spent with them since then, watching the way they looked at each other, the way they talked and acted like each other’s other half already, had put a deep bruise inside of him. The two of them were fucking meant for each other. And Deacon knew, without a doubt in his mind, that if anyone could possibly love Ez as much as he did, or would treat her the way she deserved to be treated, it was Arthur. And, despite all the stupid shit that he’d done before he’d woke up in this new world, he knew Arthur deserved her far more than he did. He’d had his sliver of happiness, more than a guy like him had ever deserved.

When he went to get Arthur up to switch shifts, he noticed that he held Ezra’s hand tightly in his own, his head resting on top of hers. Though the sight sent a sharp pang of jealousy through his chest, he had to admit it- the two of them looked perfect together. Arthur was the better man, the man she preferred, and she deserved every scrap of happiness she could get. He took off his helmet, kneeling down and gently clearing his throat.

“Arthur. Hey, boss, time to wake up.”

Arthur’s head rolled to the side for a second before he lifted and shook it.

“Switch shifts?”

Deacon nodded, eyes shifting to look at Arthur’s hand, still twined with Ezra’s.

“Yeah, but, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. What’s up?”

“Not much. Just . . . uh . . . ,” he sighed. “Look. It’s no secret I like Ezra. A lot. Hell, I think she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, and I’m crazy about her.”

Arthur felt a lump forming in his throat.

“Okay?”

“Well, the thing is . . . none of that matters. It doesn’t matter, because I’m not the one she’s in love with.” 

Their eyes met, and Arthur wished for once Deacon would take off the damn sunglasses. If this was some kind of joke he was trying to play, it wasn’t funny.

“Why do you say that?”

With a scoff, Deacon continued. “Because it’s true. Haven’t you noticed that you’re the one she always turns to when she’s in trouble, or hurting? You’re the one she worries about, fusses all over, and you’re the one she goes to bed with. Every. Damn. Night.”

Arthur snorted. “I ain’t-“ 

Ezra began rustling next to him, and he swallowed hard and lowered his voice.

“I ain’t the goddamn one that fucked her on the couch, then left her alone.”

Shit. That was a low blow, especially since Deacon knew damn well it hadn’t actually happened. Still, if that was the impression Arthur had gotten, he couldn’t blame him for hating him. If the shoe had been on the other foot, he’d have felt the same way.

“Never happened,” Deacon whispered, barely breathing, and suddenly Arthur looked at him, thoroughly confused.

“What?”

“It never happened, Arthur. Not because I didn’t want it, believe me. I never wanted anybody the way I want her . . . .” He stopped, catching himself. “But it didn’t happen. She doesn’t want me, sparky. She wants you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she told me.”

Deacon stood, getting out of his Power Armor and rolling his shoulders.

“Look, I get it. I’m a fraud, right down to my core. I get why you wouldn’t believe me- I wouldn’t believe me. But it’s true. A hundred percent.”

As Arthur prepared to get into his armor, he looked down at Deacon, settling beside Ezra where he’d just been.

“Why would you tell me this?”

“Because,” he said as he leaned his head against the wall, “I want her to be happy. Even if it’s not with me. I might hate myself for it, but that means more than any rivalry or whatever. Because it’s not even a competition. She might like me, but, whatever I am, whatever I could give her, I’m not you. You, she loves. More than anything. And I’m betting you feel the same way.”

Without another word, Arthur entered his Power Armor, taking his place on guard. There was a huge part of him that wanted to believe Deacon. Because if he was right, if Ezra loved him even half as much as he loved her, he’d be the luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet. It was tempting to go along with that. He could pretend there’d be a future for the two of them, and that, even in this forsaken place, he could be happy.

But Deacon was a liar, and he made no attempt to pretend otherwise. He’d be a fool to take what he said at face value, no matter how much the spy insisted he was being honest. He might not have a reason to lie, but he didn’t exactly have a reason to tell the truth, either.


	23. Atom Splitting

Whoever had put the word out that the Glowing Sea was the most dangerous place in the Commonwealth had definitely not been lying. The radiation gave the air an eerie green glow, laying over the ground like a fog and obscuring the distance. That meant little warning before danger was on top of them, and no time to figure out a plan of attack, whether it was stingwings, radscorpions, or feral ghouls. The only way out was to fight like hell and hope you won.

They’d explored every wrecked building or cave they’d come across so far, with no evidence anywhere of Virgil. There weren’t exact a lot of hiding places, either. Most of the land was scorched, barren from the blast of the bomb and crumbling from the exposure to radiation. From everything Ezra knew about radiation and nuclear fallout, it shouldn’t still be this bad, not after two centuries. Her only guess was that it wasn’t an average bomb, and it had been engineered somehow specifically to make wherever it was dropped unlivable for the foreseeable future, and then some. It must have been a hell of an ego that the creator of that monstrosity had, to believe he’d remain safe from something so deadly.

When they reached a fairly clear area, one that looked safe from danger, Ezra stopped, gesturing to the other two.

“I think I see a church steeple in the distance. That way, you see?” She pointed, and the men nodded. “I’m heading that way. Maybe Virgil was a scientist AND a religious nut. Or something. Anyway, it’s someplace.”

As they approached, they could see that it was definitely an old church, one of the only buildings visible this close to the drop site. The steeple itself looked almost untouched, except for the weathering of two hundred years, but the rest of the church was buried deep below the ground, with only slight hills over the roof. A few holes were visible, but no other way in could be found.

“I’m heading to one on the holes in the roof. Maybe there’s a rope or ladder or something.”

“Careful, Ez,” Arthur warned, and Deacon chimed in.

“Yeah, boss. I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“I’ve got it. I’ll be careful.”

She made her way over slowly, testing the ground before she stepped. Deacon and Arthur were nearly holding their breath as they watched, both uneasy with the idea, but knowing they had to find out somehow. It made more sense for her to be the one to go, logically, since she was the lightest, and her Power Armor was too. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t worry.

Ezra had just approached the nearest opening when there was a sudden sound in the distance, either the clap of thunder or the rumble of approaching radscorpions. Unfortunately, she never got the chance to find out, because her sudden movement threw her off balance, sending her tumbling down the hole and into the church.

Both Deacon and Arthur ran forward, forgetting their own advice about care. Though Arthur made it through unscathed, Deacon’s foot crashed through the roof not three feet from where Ezra had fallen, and in his struggle to free himself, he broke the section of roof off completely, falling through to land by Ezra. 

“Well,” he grunted as he tried to sit up, “shit. Arthur, you okay up there?”

“Yeah. How’s Ez?”

Deacon turned to where she sat, dazed but seemingly unharmed, and his eyes grew wide. Through the doorway behind her, he could see ferals, more than he could count, shambling towards them. A soft scraping behind him and groaning to each side told him that they weren’t the only ones.

“Uh, Arthur? We’ve got a teeny little problem. This place is, kinda, sorta . . . full of ferals.”

Arthur craned down to look, barely able to make them out in the dim light, but what he could see definitely didn’t look good. It looked like ants swarming towards food, which, in a sense, it was.

Deacon hauled Ezra to her feet, and they stood back to back, circling, firing at any they could see easily. The problem was, there were too many. There was no way they could keep themselves from being attacked, and with every shot, the group surrounding them grew more agitated, bolder, attacking in groups instead of their usual one at a time. 

Ezra dropped her gun, breaking a heavy piece of wood from the back of one of the pews, and started swinging. It worked better than the gun, knocking them off balance and sending them stumbling into each other, but they were soon up again, and this time they were pissed off. Soon, despite their best efforts and having taken out a good portion of the group, they were completely surrounded by the rest.

“Arthur!” Deacon called, “A little help here!”

From his perch on the roof, Arthur tried to shoot at the ferals, but every time he thought he had a clear shot, either Deacon or Ezra would stumble or shift. Ordinarily, he trusted himself completely, but the helmet of the Power Armor had slow enough focus that he wasn’t going to take a chance. Power Armor was sturdy, but not sturdy enough against a gauss rifle, Ezra had warned him about that plenty of times. When a feral climbed on top of Deacon, covering him, he took it out easily enough, but that still left too many, and they were battering his companions. 

Finally, Arthur growled. 

“To hell with this shit.”

He tore off his helmet, focusing on the ferals one at a time, and shooting. In less than thirty seconds, all of them were dead, and Deacon and Ezra collapsed on the floor together. When Ezra looked up towards Arthur to thank him, she sat bolt upright and screamed.

“YOUR FUCKING HELMET, ARTHUR!!!”

He threw it on as quickly as he could, then jumped down to where the others were, his armor taking the brunt of the damage. Ezra was practically ripping her pack to pieces in her frantic search for the RadAway she’d packed, and when she finally found it, she crossed to where Arthur stood. He was weak, nearly staggering in his attempts to stay upright, until she put her hand on his shoulder, pushing him to the floor. Once he was seated, she tried to get the pack ready, but her hands shook so badly that Deacon had to take over. Arthur flinched as the chems entered his system.

“That shit burns.”

“If you hadn’t tried to be a fucking hero, you wouldn’t need it,” Deacon snapped.

Arthur breathed heavily in his armor. “What was I supposed to do, let you get beat to death and chewed up by ferals?”

Ezra stood, turning to face him.

“You’re SUPPOSED to wear the fucking Power Armor!” She screamed. “That’s what you’re supposed to do! Not rip it off to shoot some stupid ghouls! What the hell . . . I thought . . . .” She sighed, kneeling down beside him. “If anything had happened to you . . . .”

Her voice sounded strangled, even through the helmet, and Arthur felt a burning inside that had nothing to do with the RadAway. He’d been stupid, reckless, and it had hurt her, even though he’d been trying to save her. Shame wasn’t a new feeling for him, but he didn’t think it had ever burned this bright inside of him before.

Deacon stood. “It’ll take a little while to flush his system. Meanwhile, I’m gonna look around, see if there’s anything useful.”

With that, Deacon left the two of them alone. Wordlessly, Ezra switched Arthur’s core for an empty, then let him do the same for her. When he was done, she slumped beside him on the floor.

“How are you feeling.”

“Like shit.”

“Serves your stupid ass right. Why in the hell . . . why would you do something so stupid?”

“Damn screen wouldn’t focus fast enough.”

She raised an eyebrow at him beneath her helmet. “You did better without it?”

“Well, yeah. Always have. That’s why I don’t like to use the stuff.”

“Arthur, Power Armor is supposed to focus faster than the human eye. It’s designed to focus in milliseconds, that’s a big part of its selling point. But you’re saying that it’s too slow for you?”

“Like I said, that’s why I don’t like using it. Slows all of my reactions down. That really so strange?”

“Well, yeah. Even the old stuff, like my suit at Sanctuary, is supposed to speed human reactions, not slow it down. If your brain is moving faster than that, it’s pretty damn phenomenal. Jesus, Arthur, what the hell did they do to you in that vault?”

They ended up having to spend the night in the old church, thanks to Arthur’s nausea and fatigue, especially since the only way out was a long climb to the top of the steeple. It was only lucky that all the ghouls were gone, and there didn’t seem to be a way for anything else to get in, except the same way they had. The radiation meant sleeping in their Power Armor, though, which wasn’t the most comfortable thing, and by morning, they were all sore and stiff.

“Well,” said Arthur, stretching the best he could, “we might as well get this over with.”

The hike to the top of the spiral was exhausting, despite the armor’s aid, and extremely boring, but when they got to the top, it provided a great view of the Sea, especially since the morning was as clear as the location would allow.

“Hey, there’s some kind of building over that way,” Deacon pointed. “Looks new. But it’s right in the center of the crater.”

“I don’t see anything else, though. Maybe that’s where Virgil is.”

“I don’t know, Ez.” Arthur shook his head. “Be pretty dangerous settin’ up in the middle of it like that.”

“True, but maybe that’s why he’s there. Anyway, I don’t see another building, and the way looks clear.”

They leapt from the spire, impact echoing through the expanse before them. When nothing leapt out, they moved on, in the direction Deacon had pointed out. It was a surprisingly short walk, but the interior of the crater was just as noxious as they’d expected. What they hadn’t expected was an entire group of people living there, amidst the radiation, without so much as a hazmat suit among them.

“These guys are nuts,” Deacon muttered as they approached. “But, hey, at least we’re not gonna have to worry about any of ‘em having kids.”

“Deacon!” Ezra hissed.

“What? I’m just being honest!”

Arthur chuckled behind them. In his opinion, they were definitely off, by more than a little. But then, he’d seen and done some pretty strange things himself, so who was he to judge? It’s not like he’d expected to wake up two centuries in the future.

They moved between the kneeling, murmuring figures to approach the large metal building, but were stopped at the foot of the steps. A woman emerged from the shadows, her hair disheveled and her face dirty, with a sickly green pallor.

“You approach Atom’s holy ground. State your purpose, or be divided in his sight.”

Ezra stepped forward. “We mean no harm. We’re just looking for someone, a man named Virgil. A scientist. Can you help us?”

She gestured for Ezra to follow her, while Deacon and Arthur waited below. They stood nervously, looking around them at the various kneeling figures. It was clear the proximity to the crater wasn’t doing their health any favors. Most were thin, almost skeletal, and they were losing their hair and teeth. One or two had to stop in the middle of their prayers to gag, nausea overtaking them. Arthur shook his head. He’d felt bad enough after just a few minutes with his helmet off, so nauseated, weak, and tired that he barely wanted to exist anymore. He couldn’t image what it would feel like to live in this.

“You think we’re really gonna get any information here?” Deacon asked him.

Arthur shrugged, opening his mouth to speak, but Ezra appeared at the top of the stairs. She turned to nod politely to the woman, then made her way down to where they waited.

“She says Virgil’s in a cave. That way.”

As she pointed into the distance, Arthur couldn’t help but notice there was a cold sort of determination in her stance and the sound of her voice. Here they were, on the cusp of understanding- or being left in the dark. If Virgil couldn’t point them in a direction, it was likely they’d never be able to find out what happened.

The trek to Virgil’s cave was uneventful, but Ezra still stopped in the opening. For a minute, she seemed reluctant, unsure. Then Arthur put a hand on her shoulder, and she pushed forward, into the dark of the cave. As they made their way in, past turrets and hanging cans, a tension began building inside of Ezra. This was what she’d been hoping for, it was real, and she might find out what everything meant. But that might change her entire world. What if she wasn’t who she thought she was? She’d heard Deacon’s talk of mind wipes and synths believing they were human- what if that was her?

Her thoughts were stopped suddenly by a rough, gravelly voice.

“Easy, no sudden moves.” 

To their horror, a large, green figure moved into the light. A Super Mutant. Arthur’s finger itched against the trigger of his gun, but something stayed his hand. This mutant didn’t look or sound like the others they’d run across in their travels. His voice was smoother and warmer, touched by what almost sounded like fear. On top of that, he was, well, dressed. In something vaguely resembling a sweater and ascot, and he was wearing glasses, tied across his enormous head with string.

“I know you’re from the Institute. I’m not stupid, I knew they’d send someone. What do you want with me? To kill me? Make me go back? That’s not going to happen. I won’t go back, I can’t!”

“I’m just looking for information.” Ezra raised her hands in supplication, propping her gun at her feet. “Why’d you leave the Institute?”

“Look at me! You really think the Institute, of all places, would let me in? Looking like this?”

“So how’d it happen?”

He sighed heavily. “Poking my nose where I shouldn’t. I was in bioengineering, you know. Working with the FEV. They weren’t really interested in it anymore, by then, since they’d found out it had a big hand in creating the Super Mutants and ghouls, but I was determined. Thought I could make some improvements, maybe find a cure.” 

A dark look came over his face as he talked. Clearly, what he was recalling wasn’t exactly a happy memory.

They stuck me back in an old section of the labs, built back before the bombs.” He glanced up at Ezra. “You know the Institute was in place well before the war, right? Through C.I.T.?” She nodded. “Well I guess they thought it would be some kind of great joke- stick crazy Brian Virgil in the old, musty FEV labs, among the preserved mutant bodies. But I took my work seriously. One day, I was frustrated, at my wit’s end. Felt backed into a corner, so I started poking around in the old terminals. I thought . . . I don’t know. I guess I thought I’d find some clue, or inspiration, or something. What I got was this.” He gestured down at his body.

“How’d it happen?”

“Because I was rash. Careless. I found some information on old experiments, run in conjunction with-“

“Vault-Tec,” she interrupted, and he stared up at her incredulously.

“How did you know that?”

“Vault 111. Two hundred years ago. I volunteered, woke up some time ago.”

“You’re from two hundred years ago? A vault?”

Arthur stepped forward. “Yeah, and I am too. And we’d really like to know what in the hell they did to us.”

“Oh. Oh- I’m so sorry. If you were . . . look, I’ll be honest. I know there was information there, but I didn’t pay it attention. Too focused on my own interests. But . . . I can tell you how to get there.”

Deacon drew in a sharp breath. “Into the Institute?”

“Yes. But I need a favor.”

Ezra nodded.

“In the old FEV lab, I was working on a cure. I need you to bring it to me. If you actually make it in, that is.”

“Tell me what I need to know.”


	24. Confronting the Devil

“An actual in at the Institute? This is huge. Dez’ll be beside herself. It’s exactly what we’ve been looking for.”

“Easy, Deacon. We ain’t out of the woods yet,” Arthur cautioned. “You said yourself coursers are damn near impossible to kill, and that’s exactly what we gotta do.”

The crew had returned to Diamond City completely exhausted, their heads buzzing with all of the new information. Despite the need for sleep, it had been impossible right away, so they spent some time discussing everything, instead.

“Arthur’s right, Deac. We may not survive to get into the Institute at all. Even if we do, it’s highly unlikely they’ll just let us waltz in and take whatever we want. Getting in might mean never coming out.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. It’s just . . . this is something none of us ever thought was possible.” He stretched, standing from his position on the couch. “Look, I’m gonna head on back to HQ. I’ll give Dez a briefing, but I know she’ll want to hear from the two of you personally, and she’ll want to know what you plan on doing.”

Ezra nodded, standing to follow him to the door.

“I need to head to the Castle again, too. God knows Preston’s probably going crazy without me, and he’ll want to hear what we know, too.”

“Right. Well, swing by HQ on your way out, talk to Dez, and then I’ll come with.”

She agreed, then closed and locked the door behind him. When she turned to face Arthur, her hands were perched on her hips, a frown on her face.

“What?”

“Don’t play innocent with me, mister. I haven’t forgotten your stunt in the Glowing Sea.” She raised a finger, pointing to the bathroom. “Shower. Now. Might as well rinse your clothes while you’re in there, too. Get rid of ALL the rads. I don’t care if you have to scrub fifty times.”

“Well what about you?”

“I didn’t take my helmet off while I was in the most heavily irradiated location in the entire Commonwealth. I’ll shower when you’re done. But you, mister, you are gonna scrub yourself good and clean, then you’re gonna get in bed and rest. When I’m out of the shower I’ll look you over to make sure there’s no damage.”

He nodded, chuckling under his breath as he went to shower. She was teasing him in good humor, but he knew there was still genuine concern behind it, and he did exactly as she asked, right down to washing his clothes and hanging them over the rack to dry. When he was done, he came out wearing just his boxers, hands in the air.

“I’m clean, I swear, Ez.”

“Good. Now, bed. I put some water on the nightstand, have a drink. Just water,” she added hastily.

She watched him climb the ladder, and once he’d disappeared, she went into the bathroom to take her own shower. Initially, she didn’t bother to remove her clothes. She may have been in Power Armor, but with that much irradiation, she didn’t want to take chances. Once they were rinsed, she pulled them off one at a time, scrubbing them and hanging them beside Arthur’s.

God, he was a lucky son-of-a-bitch. To be exposed to that much radiation, and all it took was a RadAway and some rest. He seemed to be fine, no bleeding, no hair loss. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from worrying. It had been such a risk for him to take, just to save her life. Of course, she was glad he had, but, still- what if it had killed him? What if the cost of him saving her had been his own life?

Suddenly, she felt like the wind was knocked out of her, and she leaned against the shower wall, slowly sliding to the floor. He could have died. Really and truly. She’d be here by herself, no one waiting in the bed. No cuddles. No hand to hold, no one to murmur soft, soothing words when she woke up screaming.

No Arthur.

The thought terrified her. No one in this world understood her the way he did, and not just because they’d both lived in the same, long-forgotten time. She didn’t even have to speak, half the time. He just . . . knew. Knew if she needed comfort, or a distraction, or a good, stiff drink. Knew, without her ever having to tell him, what kind of touch she needed when she was scared, or lonely . . . or craving something else.

She finished washing, her mind racing as she scrubbed the dirt from her body. Her emotions were raw inside of her, fresh and terrifying as she dressed for bed and climbed the ladder. She stared at Arthur for a minute, thinking he was asleep, as everything they’d been through, the highs, the lows, and, yes, the more intimate parts too, all flooded her.

He opened his eyes, smiling.

“How do you feel, Arthur?” She whispered, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“I’m alright. Aside from a little tired, I feel pretty much normal.”

She reached, taking his face in her hands and turning it to look in his eyes, ears, and nose.

“No bleeding or anything?”

He shook his head. “No.”

There was something about the way she was looking at him, her voice. Even the feel of her hands against his skin. A tension, stretched between them, that had his heart in his throat, his pulse pounding in his ears. Suddenly his skin felt hot, and he could hardly look her in the eye. Instead, he looked down, clearing his throat.

“Guess I ought to get out of your way, let you get in bed.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Before he could ask what she meant, she’d shifted positions and was stretched across him on her hands and knees, her body hovering over his. Then she just . . . stopped. Her eyes were locked on his, and, slowly, she lowered her body, laying across his chest and squeezing him in a full body hug. When she raised herself enough to look at him again, her eyes were red and watery, and her voice shook when she spoke.

“Arthur, don’t you ever do anything like that again. You . . . you scared me half to death.”

He reached up to tuck some loose hair behind her ear.

“Alright.”

“I mean it.” She pressed her face in his neck, letting him cup his hand around the back of her head before looking up at him again. “I could have lost you, Arthur. Lost you, permanently. I-“

She stopped, staring at him, her heart pounding in her chest. All he could think about was how incredibly beautiful she looked, even upset with him, and how very, very good her body felt wrapped around his the way it was. Her head began lowering, slowly.

And then her mouth was on his.

Her lips were so soft, sweet and warm as they moved against his own, and the gentle nipping of her teeth soon had him moaning in pleasure. His hands wrapped around the curve of her thighs, rough palms against soft skin, squeezing as her tongue slipped into his mouth to stroke against his own. He could barely breathe for the pleasure of it, the pure and utter bliss.

She broke the kiss to look into his eyes, and, for her the moment stretched into eternity. The waiting, watching for his reaction. Had she stepped too far?

Then his hand was behind her head, pulling her down for another kiss, and the rest of the world melted away. For her, the only thing that existed was the warmth of his body beneath hers, the salty sweetness of his mouth, and the rough scrub of his palms as his hands slid up her thighs, searching for the perfect curve of her ass. He loved it, loved the way it fit against his grip, the gentle give against his fingertips as he squeezed, making her moan into his mouth.

Heat blossomed between them, his growing hardness answered by the rock of her hips against his, the satin between her thighs sliding easily over the stiff line of his cock. Already he could feel her dampness seeping out against him, driving him crazy with visions of how beautiful she must look, the swell of her arousal spreading her open, slick and glistening with want, all for him.

In one easy motion, he had her on her back, his mouth drawing a line of sweet bruises down her throat as he kissed his way down her body. Every moan of pleasure, every gasp he drew, all of it fanned the flames of his desire, until he thought he might explode with the wanting. This was ecstasy, his mouth on her skin, the way her hands slid into his hair as he pushed her shirt above her hips, and he’d live here forever. As his fingers slipped beneath the satin at her waist, he heard her humming in pleasure above him, her words coming out in a soft sigh.

“Whatcha doing, Arthur?”

He smiled at the playfulness of her tone as he slid her underwear down her legs, tossing them off the foot of the bed.

“Something I’ve wanted to do since that morning at the Castle.”

“So you do remember it . . . ,” she laughed softly.

“Remember it?” He groaned, placing a hand on each of her knees to push them apart as he positioned himself between them. “Hell, there’s nights I can’t hardly sleep for thinking about it. Remembering the way you felt against my hand, the sounds you made . . . been driving me damn near crazy.”

“Me too . . . oh god . . . .”

She groaned as the warmth of his mouth enveloped her, the flat of his tongue dragging across her opening to lap up the sweetness of her arousal. He moaned in appreciation as he leaned back for one brief moment.

“Goddamn, you taste so good.”

And then he was on her again, lapping, sucking, flicking his tongue. Just when she thought she’d tip over the edge, fall into the pool of ecstasy, he’d change his pace, or the pattern of his tongue, and she was rising again. He was a fucking prodigy with his mouth, an artist, gathering every ounce of beautiful pleasure from her body and collecting it on the tip of his tongue.

Before long, her hands were fisted in the thick of his hair as her hips bucked against him, his name falling from her lips over and over again. He didn’t let up, not for one instant, until she had cum, screaming, and jerked him away by his hair. She rose to her knees in front of him, pulling his arms around her and kissing him like she was drowning, and he was oxygen.

His hands slipped beneath her shirt, tearing it over her head and throwing it to the side as she pushed him onto his back. Greedy eyes watched as she tugged off his boxers, eager hands grasped her hips as she straddled his thighs. For a moment, he was stunned, utterly enchanted as his eyes roamed her naked body for the first time. He’d known she was beautiful, and he’d have loved her body however it looked, but this- it was like every fantasy of a woman he’d ever had, gathered and perfected, brought to life in the angelic figure above him. 

“So beautiful . . . ,” he whispered, thumb trailing over her cheek. “Seriously, Ez. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Tears were welling in her eyes, even as she lowered herself onto him. As she leaned forward to kiss him, he held her close, still hardly daring to believe it was real. Then she leaned on her elbows, her mouth so close to his that he felt her lips moving against his own, and said the last thing he’d expected to hear.

“I love you, Arthur.”

His hands cupped her face, pulling her to him for another hard kiss as he felt tears spilling from his own eyes. 

“I love you too, Ez.”

Then he gasped as she started moving. The feeling of her walls wrapped around him, sliding up and down the length of his cock while he watched her, sent him down a rabbit hole of bliss and ecstasy. She looked like a goddess, the way her breasts swayed, the rhythm of her hips, the elegant column of her throat as she leaned backwards, and he’d been blessed, and could never be deserving enough. As she looked down at him, her wide eyes full of admiration, his heart swelled with love.

She smiled as she rocked across his hips, tilting her head back.

“I can’t believe I waited so long for this . . . you feel so good, so perfect.” She closed her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure of his body. “God, I’ve wanted to do this since Sanctuary.”

“Really?”

“Mmmhmm.” She moaned as she angled her hips, driving him deeper inside of her. “Almost since the beginning. You were so handsome, and kind, and . . . .”

He felt her walls beginning to tighten around him as her the rhythm of her hips grew faster, her breath coming in hot, rapid pants. Soon, her movements became stuttered and erratic as her hands pressed against his chest, and she started whining his name. He slipped his thumb between them, finding the slick swell of her clit and circling. Her nails dug into his chest as she moved faster, until, finally she came, screaming loud and long. Her back arched, bending so far backwards he had to grab her wrists to keep her steady, and then she collapsed against him.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” she panted against his neck. “That was incredible.”

He chuckled, tilting her chin up to make her look at him.

“Darlin’, I ain’t half finished with you yet.”

She gave him a wide grin, giggling as he rolled her to her back and climbed on top of her. He spread kisses along her throat, her neck, and her chest, until the playfulness turned to heat, and he took the peak of her nipple into his mouth. The action drew a long, low groan, and she found herself wanting, needing him between her thighs again. 

She threw her legs around him, pulling him close, and this time he paid careful attention to her face as he pushed inside of her. Watching the way her expression changed, the shift in her features from desperate, wanting, to satisfaction, and utter bliss, was a wholly erotic experience, unlike anything he’d known before. Something about the fact that it was her, and that it was him, his cock, that was giving her those feelings set him on edge in the best way. He felt like just the look on her face could make him cum.

He let his body melt into hers, falling into a gentle, steady rhythm. Every time his eyes met hers, every time he saw the adoration in her gaze, he wanted to pinch himself and make sure it was real. It just didn’t seem possible, after everything he’d been through, that he could end up in this perfect woman’s arms, coupled with her in the most intimate way.

All too soon, he felt the tension winding tight inside of him, and found himself moving faster. Despite his efforts to slow down, make this moment last, his body chased release. As he groaned, she stroked down his back, soothing him, and whispered in his ear.

“C’mon, Arthur. Let go. Give it to me, show me just how much you’ve wanted me all this time.”

That was all it took for him to give himself over to the absolute pleasure of her body, spending himself deep inside of her as she held his face in her hands. If he hadn’t already been cumming, the rapture with which she watched him would have done him in for sure. As it was, he came harder than he ever had before, pleasure bordering on pain in the force of his release. When he’d finished, he collapsed on top of her, letting her continue to stroke his back and place soft kisses against any skin she could reach. When he turned to look at her, she was already smirking at him.

“Fuck, Arthur. Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look when you cum?” She moaned softly, biting her lip. “It ought to be illegal to look so sexy.”

“Good thing it ain’t,” he breathed, kissing her neck. “Else I’d be spending a hell of a long time in jail, much as I wanna fuck you.”

“If it’s even half as often as I wanna fuck you, we’ll never leave the bed.”

“Fine by me. Let the rest of the Commonwealth go to hell, I got all I need right here.”


	25. Don’t Kill the Messenger

Arthur and Ezra stood by, nervously twitching. They knew it was best if as few people as possible heard, but privacy was damn near impossible to find in the Railroad headquarters. Eventually, Desdemona called them, along with Deacon, over to the corner P.A.M. used. They second they were alone, Des rounded on the three of them.

“What do you know?”

“It’s teleportation. That’s how they get in and out, something called a molecular relay.” Ezra drew in a sharp breath. “It’s the ONLY way. And the only way we can get in is to, well . . . .”

“We gotta kill a courser,” Deacon finished for her. “Des, this is huge, but it’s also hugely dangerous.”

“It’s not up for debate, Deacon,” Ezra bit. “I’m going to find a courser, and I’m going to kill it, remove the chip from it’s head, and get in there.”

“Easy, boss.” Deacon threw his hands up. “I agree, okay? It’s non-negotiable. But we are gonna need a little something extra, if we’re gonna succeed.”

“I ain’t traipsing through the Commonwealth after you, fighting killer robots again,” Arthur huffed, making Ezra laugh a bit as he threw his arm around her waist.

“No need. Deacon, take them to Tom.” Desdemona turned towards Ezra and Arthur. “Tom will get you whatever you need. He’s the best we can offer.”

With that she strode away, moving on to the next emergency. Arthur shook his head, then nuzzled against Ezra’s temple and placed a soft kiss there. She gave him a giddy smile, kissed his cheek, and walked away to check in with Glory. As soon as she was out of earshot, Deacon looked over his sunglasses at Arthur.

“So I take it you two finally talked?”

In spite of himself, Arthur gave Deacon a crooked smile. “Something like that.”

“Good. Watching you two fumble over your feelings wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time.” Arthur moved to walk away, but Deacon stopped him. “In all seriousness, I’m happy for both of you. Disappointed for myself . . . but that’s another story. I just hope you realize what a lucky son of a bitch you are to have her.”

He moved his hand from Arthur’s chest, watching as the man’s face twisted in debate. Then he looked at Deacon.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know you felt strong for her-“

“I still do,” Deacon said flatly.

“Yeah. Well, I want you to know, if she’d picked you, there’d be no hard feelings between us. If . . . if anybody else would love her like she deserved, it’d be you, I know. And maybe it won’t matter, or you won’t care, but given what we’re about to go up against-“ Arthur took a deep, trembling breath, “if by some chance, I don’t make it, you got my blessing to go after her. I know you don’t need it, but I’m giving it to you anyway. If I’m gone, and she needs somebody-“

“Jeez, sparky, way to lighten the mood,” Deacon joked. “You’re not gonna die out there, you’re the best shot in the Commonwealth.”

Awkwardly, Arthur shrugged, then moved to leave again.

“Hey, Arthur?” He turned to face Deacon one more time. “Thanks.”

With a single nod, he left to find Ezra.

Once they’d sorted everything out with Des, Deacon, Arthur and Ezra made their way to the Castle. It had been a long time since the General had shown herself, and she wanted to make sure things were going well. Besides, she thought it might be a good idea if a few key people knew where they’d be going soon, and why. It was, admittedly, a little awkward among the three of them, but both men made it a point to be polite to each other, and Ezra tried not to be overly affectionate with either of them.

Though he was surprised to see Deacon, Preston welcomed them back to the Castle with open arms, quickly showing them all of the improvements that had been made in Ezra’s absence. They’d done much to shore up the defenses, adding in several turrets in addition to the artillery. There were also a lot more Minutemen, with more showing up every day. 

“We’re training them here, then stationing them at settlements all over the Commonwealth. Once we have enough trained men, you can head out and help them set up artillery. Pretty soon, we’ll have the whole Commonwealth protected. It’s amazing!”

Preston’s excitement was contagious, even if the three were exhausted already. Deacon kept making ridiculous comments under his breath, making Arthur and Ezra laugh, until they were all in high spirits. On top of that, several of the Minutemen insisted they celebrate the General’s return, and soon the alcohol was pouring freely, and the trio found themselves more than a little tipsy. 

As darkness settled in, the excitement of the past few days began to lay heavy on their bones. Though she really wanted to stay up to continue celebrating, Ezra’s yawns were getting larger and closer together all the time, and both of the others were beginning to show dark circles under their eyes. Finally, she couldn’t take it any more.

“Guys, it’s been great, but the General’s gotta get some sleep. There’s things I have to do.”

“Ah, c’mon General! What’s so important you’ve gotta abandon the troops in the middle of a party?”

Ezra didn’t recognize the face questioning her, so she just made a dismissive gesture with her hand, half stumbling toward her quarters. Arthur caught up to her quickly, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. He wasn’t a whole lot more stable, but the two made it into the Castle without any major damage. Suddenly a familiar face stepped in front of them.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You guys off for your own private party? What gives? Don’t I get an invitation?”

Ezra rolled her eyes, giggling, then snatched off Deacon’s sunglasses.

“Hey, no fair! Those are required, it’s in the job description!”

She stuck her tongue out at him, then shoved them in her pocket. After sighing in resignation, Deacon bent over and hoisted Ezra across his shoulders, making her yelp and Arthur laugh. Deacon raised an eyebrow at him.

“So, boss. Where exactly am I putting this disrespectful gremlin?”

Chuckling, Arthur responded, “it’s right this way. Just follow me.”

Jostling her a little more than necessary, Deacon followed Arthur into the room they’d used as their bedroom. It was left almost exactly as it had been, though neatened somewhat, and someone had put fresh sheets on the bed. As Deacon crossed the threshold, he heard Ezra mumbling under her breath.

“How the hell do I always end up like this when I’m drunk?”

With a hearty smack to her rear, Arthur answered. “Maybe try gettin’ a little less drunk then, sweetheart.”

As she pouted, Deacon dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed, watching her bounce a little on the worn mattress. Immediately, she pulled her boots off, tossing them to the floor, while Arthur sat beside her to do the same. For a few moments, Deacon stood watching them, unsure of what to do.

“So, uh, I guess I’ll go find someplace to rack out, get some sleep.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Deacon,” Arthur said. “You’re welcome to stay here, just like you’re welcome in Diamond City.”

Ezra tossed him his sunglasses as she pulled off her pants, and he felt his throat go dry.

“So . . . yeah. I’ll just . . . take this spot on the floor.”

He moved to settle into the corner, but Ezra sat bolt upright, patting the spot on her side.

“To hell with that! Come on, Deacon.”

Raising his eyebrow, Deacon turned towards Arthur, who shrugged.

“You heard the lady.”

Cautiously, Deacon crawled into bed beside her, laying stiffly on his back while she snuggled up to Arthur. To say this was the strangest thing he’d done . . . well, maybe it wasn’t the strangest, but it was up there. Laying in bed beside the woman he was, just maybe, sort of in love with, while she cuddled with her . . . boyfriend, he supposed? It was definitely not on the list of things he thought he’d be doing one day. He glanced over to see Arthur give her a kiss on the forehead, then lay back and close his eyes. After a few minutes, their breathing slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep, and then, so did Deacon’s.

He woke to the feeling of something warm and soft beside him, a familiar smell filling his nostrils. It was so pleasant that he found himself struggling to stay under the haze of sleep, hoping it wouldn’t disappear, but the ache in his bladder forced him to surface. When he opened his eyes, he found Ezra wrapped around his arm, her leg thrown over his. Arthur was curled behind her, his face pressed into her shoulder and his hand resting on her hip.

“Well, this isn’t how I thought I’d wake up this morning.”

Arthur’s eyes opened, a half smile on his face.

“I take it you didn’t realize she was quite this much of a cuddler?”

“Definitely not. Sorry about this. I just woke up this way, I swear.”

“I know. Like I said, Ez’s a cuddler. Count yourself lucky you can breathe.”

Between them, Ezra groaned.

“I heard that. Both of you shut up, I want more sleep.”

She wrapped her leg tighter around Deacon, making him feel like his bladder was about to explode.

“Love to, Ez, but my bladder says otherwise,” Deacon joked as he wiggled out from under her. As soon as he was free, she rolled over, wrapping herself around Arthur.

“Come back soon,” she drawled as sleep began to take her again.

Once Deacon had relieved himself, he took a few minutes to think about the situation he was in. He’d just woke up with someone else’s girl all over him, even if it wasn’t sexual. To make matters worse, he’d enjoyed it- like REALLY enjoyed it. It was nice to feel close to someone after all this time, and Arthur hadn’t seemed to mind. 

BUT . . . it could be a damn slippery slope. As he’d told Arthur already, he still had strong feelings for Ezra. He’d accepted that she didn’t want him, but how long would that last if he was curling up beside her, feeling that soft skin of hers against him? If he knew he couldn’t have her, wouldn’t he just be torturing himself?

In the end, he decided it was one morning, not likely to repeat itself, and that maybe a little torture was alright. He turned around, headed back to the room he’d just left, and crawled back into bed, letting Ezra pull him up against her back. She was soft, and warm, and wonderful, and Deacon slept better than he had in ages.

They woke late and lazy, spending time chatting in bed before officially getting up to start the day. It was strange for Deacon, laying in bed beside Ezra, her hand on his chest tracing mindless patterns while Arthur’s hand was on her thigh, but a part of it felt almost natural, too. Without the rivalry for Ez’s heart hanging over their heads, he and Arthur actually got along pretty well, and it didn’t seem to bother him at all that she was so affectionate with him. Like, once he knew he was the one who had her heart, he trusted her. Trust. That wasn’t exactly something Deacon was familiar with, but if it let him have this odd happiness, he could get used to it.

When the day did start for them, they were all business. Ezra went over future plans with Preston regarding the Minutemen, and what she thought they ought to be focusing on. She occasionally asked for input from Arthur and Deacon, but for the most part, it was her show, and she was good at it. They worked out where to focus, what areas might need the most help, and how they could best keep Raiders out of their settlements. Once that was over, she consulted with Preston and Ronnie about how to best set up the chain of command, what would happen if someone fell.

“I don’t want an absence. If something happens, if someone’s not there, everyone should know who to follow next. Otherwise you get power hungry idiots jumping in.”

They agreed, and setting that up took a good several hours, with Ronnie and Preston left to deal with the practicalities as they arose. It was then that she called Preston to meet the three of them in her quarters. He looked between them nervously.

“What’s this all about, General?”

Ezra sighed. “We’re about to leave on a very important mission. It has everything to do with us finding out what our marks mean. In fact, if we’re lucky, it’ll mean we have a way to get inside the Institute itself.”

“Wow. That’s a big deal.”

“Yeah. It’s also gonna be dangerous,” Ezra said. “That’s why we set up the chain of command, and it’s why I’m telling you where we’re going. We have to kill a courser, for the chip in it’s head. That’s the only way we’ll ever get in. They’re . . . not exactly known for being merciful. With the three of us, I’d say we have a pretty good shot. But, just in case, we’ll be heading into the area of the C.I.T. ruins. I plan on this being an in and out deal, no side trips or distractions. So, if you don’t hear from me in three days time, tell Ronnie. If you wanna send out forces to see if one of us made it out, and is hurt or something, send your best, but take no chances.”

“Yes ma’am, General. Anything else?”

“Make sure we keep at least one officer in a Diamond City. If I don’t make it back tell Nick Valentine. He’ll know what to do.”

Once they’d finished telling Preston what he needed to know, they said goodbye and started readying themselves for the future. It wasn’t technically as dangerous as heading out into the Glowing Sea, but it felt more so. All they could do was look forward, and hope they got to the end alive.


	26. Gone Hunting

Three days later, they were stumbling through the ruins of C.I.T., trying to find the signal Virgil had told them about. Unfortunately, the radio seemed to be shorting out. Ezra knocked it a few times, cursing.

“You sure he said there’d be a radio signal? And you got the right frequency?”

She glared at Arthur before slamming the radio into his outstretched hand. Deacon certainly got a good laugh out of it, raising his eyebrows at Arthur over her little outburst. For a few minutes Arthur just wandered around, turning the radio this way and that, making subtle adjustments to the dial. He was about to give up when Ezra heard a soft beeping sound, distant and slow.

“Stop, that’s it!”

“Well, looks like we’ve got a courser to find.” Deacon muttered, and they took off.

A few minutes later, they were standing outside of the Greentech Genetics building, the radio beeping near constantly. Arthur shut it off, shoving it back in Ezra’s pack, and looked over at her. She returned the look out of the corner of her eye and slipped her hand in his for a quick squeeze, then looked over at Deacon standing on her other side. He gave her a quick pat on the back, then moved toward the doorway.

“Let’s go.”

The moment the door opened, the sound of gunfire filled the air, coupled with frantic orders being shouted over the intercom. It seemed as if they weren’t the only ones after the courser. The bodies of Gunners littered the floor, stairs, and even upper walkways as far as they could see. As a shiver of cold terror rippled through them, each of them hoped their luck would be better.

To make matters even more complicated, as soon as the Gunners realized they were in the building, they started shooting at them. Arthur took out as many as he could from a distance, but it seemed there was an almost endless supply. Wave after wave kept coming after them as they climbed, keeping them just out of the reach of the courser. The only positive was the ammo looted from their bodies, keeping them fully supplied. Ezra was able to hack through some of the terminals and restart the turrets, giving them minimal assistance, but the fight was long and hard, even before they reached the floor the courser was on. 

Finally, it seemed the Gunners had run out of bodies to send out, and they heard a cold, dry voice threatening someone just above them. 

“Must be the courser,” Arthur whispered. “How you wanna handle this?”

“I’ll go first,” Deacon volunteered. “Distract him while you two take him out.”

“Hell no. I’m the better shot, Deacon. I can try to sneak up on him, take him out from a distance.”

Ezra rolled her eyes. “Will you two stop trying to be self-sacrificing idiots? It sounds like he’s plenty distracted already. It also sounds like he can’t quite get to what he’s after. From the sound of it, his back is to the doorway. I say we sneak up as quietly as we can, all three of us get guns on him at once, and blast the hell out of him. The chip’s in his head, so aim for his arms and torso.”

Deacon couldn’t help but chuckle. Always on top of it, that one.

“You heard the lady,” he smiled.

Ezra went first, crouched low, with Deacon just behind her. Arthur followed, sniper rifle at the ready. When they reached the top of the stairs,it was exactly as Ezra had described it. Unfortunately, she hadn’t accounted for the bound Gunners facing them. Their movement caught the eyes of the prisoners, who glanced at them, and that made the courser turn.

He opened his mouth to question them, and all three opened fire at once. He manage to fire a few wild shots in their direction, two of which hit Ezra in her side. Then he was down, his blood spattered across the faces of the surviving Gunners, all of who were begging for their lives. Behind them, a young woman was locked in a small room, trying to speak to them.

Ezra tried to stand to go to her, but collapsed immediately against Deacon. He caught her, then looked down to see his hands covered in blood.

“Uh . . . Arthur? We’ve got a problem.”

Ezra’s face was deathly pale, her eyes glassy and unfocused. As he took her in his arms, Arthur growled instructions to Deacon.

“Get the chip, deal with the girl.”

He laid Ezra against the wall, noting with terror that her eyes looked to be rolling back in her head. She was trying to stay awake, but it wasn’t easy, no matter how Arthur shook her face and tried to talk to her. With his hands far steadier than he would have expected, he pulled out his knife, hurriedly cutting her clothing away from the wounds on her side.

It wasn’t good. One bullet had grazed her, deeply, but easily dealt with. The other, however, had entered her side from near the front, coming out a little lower at the back. There was no way to know if anything vital had been hit, if her ribs had been broken. Like an idiot, he hadn’t brought any of the limited supply of stimpacks.

“Deacon! You got a stimpack on you?”

“No go, boss. Check Ez’s pack, she’s usually got some.”

“Can’t really do that, Deac.” He wadded up the clothing he’d cut away, wrapping it in a spare t-shirt. “If I don’t keep pressure on this, and try to keep her awake . . . .”

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. Her head was rolling around on her shoulders, and he was having to slap her face far harder than he wanted to. Blood was already starting to soak through the fabric he had pressed to the wounds. Deacon came running over, almost falling in his hurry to get to her. One look at her face and his own went almost as pale as hers was.

“Oh shit. Arthur . . . she’s . . . .”

“Goddammit, I know! Just- go through her bag, check the bodies, find me a goddamn stimpack!”

While Deacon dumped the contents of her bag onto the floor, Arthur pressed harder against her side, trying to staunch the flow of blood. He was afraid he’d end up hurting her more, but, by the look of it, she was a bit past caring. He stroked the back of her head with one bloodied hand.

“Come on, Ez, stay with me. Stay right here with me.”

“Fuck! No stimpacks here, either! How the hell did we come out so damn unprepared?”

Arthur was beyond caring what anybody said. Ezra’s eyes were fluttering dangerously, her head slumped to the side. She moaned a little, maybe trying to speak, but no words came, and the blood was still seeping out, even if it was a little slower than before. He pulled her into his lap, murmuring in her ear.

“Sweetheart, come on, come back to me. I can’t be here without you. I need you, need you here. You’re so damn strong, you can make it through this, through anything. We’ve got more we gotta do. Just . . . please. Please, stay.”

The girl who’d been behind the door earlier stepped over to them.

“Oh, your friend . . . .” She rummaged around in a beaten up sack, then kneeled beside Arthur. “Here. You saved me, it’s the least I can do.”

In her hand was a stimpack.

Arthur snatched it up, plunging it into Ezra’s flesh just as her eyes fluttered shut. He held his breath, waiting, watching. From Deacon’s spot nearby, he did the same.

Ezra’s head tilted upward with a groan as she leaned against Arthur’s chest.

“Fuck. Can I go back to sleep? This shit hurts.”

Arthur laughed in relief, barely able to believe they’d been so lucky. He moved the wad of cloth aside, noticing that she was still bleeding some, but not nearly as badly. He’d bandage her up in a minute, it’d stop soon enough. 

With a sigh, he kissed the side of her head.

“Hell no, you gotta stay awake for a bit, hurt or not. I ain’t taking no chances.”

Deacon thanked the girl before she headed on her way, then settled on the floor beside his friends.

“A synth,” he murmured. “Escaped from the Institute. Gunners found her on the road while she was running from the courser, thought they might get some money out of it.” 

He paused for a minute, letting himself take in the fact that they’d just faced and taken down a courser, and all three were still alive.

“I don’t want to push, but we gotta leave, Arthur. Somebody’s gonna come looking for these assholes when they don’t come back. I know she’s hurt, but . . . .”

“Yeah,” Arthur sighed, “I know. Can you walk, Ez?”

She tried to laugh, grimacing instead. “Oh sure. I’ll be tap dancing all the way. Just help me up, assholes.”

“Sweet as ever,” Deacon said, grunting as he helped Arthur lift her to her feet.

They were unbelievably grateful that the elevator was working enough to get them almost all the way down, meaning Ezra didn’t have to struggle down the stairs. The stimpack might have saved her life, but she was still weak, and they needed to find somewhere safe to rest. She’d have to be properly bandaged, and it would take her some time to heal, even if they could get their hands on more stimpacks.

Slowly, they made their way to Railroad HQ, where Carrington performed the necessary stitches and bandaging, and she had a chance to rest. She was antsy to get back to their home in Diamond City, though, despite his advice to stay off of her feet. In all honesty, Arthur couldn’t blame her. HQ was great, for what it was, but it still carried an overwhelming stench of mildew and decay, and it lacked the comforts of home. Like running water. They’d cleaned the blood off the best they could, but her clothes were still stiff and stained, not to mention having a large hole where Arthur had to cut them open.

Eventually, he was convinced to let her leave, provided they left the courser chip to be decoded and Deacon came along to help. Thanks to their work with the Minutemen, the trip was faster and easier than it would have been a few months before, even with them having to help Ezra most of the way. Once they hit the gates of Diamond City, Deacon agreed to head to the Castle to let Preston know what was going on, and they parted ways.

At first, Arthur kept his arm around Ezra, letting her lean on him for support, but he could tell she was exhausted beyond measure. Carefully, so he didn’t hurt her, he lifted her in his arms, carrying her through the Market to their house. She didn’t complain once the whole time, only proving how tired she really was, even when he put her down to unlock the door, then lifted her again to carry her inside.

“You feel like a shower?”

She sighed, laying her head on his shoulder.

“No, but I need one. This blood stinks, and it’s itchy.”

Without another word, he carried her directly into the bathroom, sitting her on the toilet and instructing her not to move. While she waited, he made sure the door was locked, then got some fresh towels and returned to her.

“Now I’m sure you don’t feel good. You ain’t moved to try to do it by yourself.”

“I just don’t have the energy,” she replied, shaking her head.

“Well, you lost a lot of blood. Probably won’t feel right for a couple of weeks, at least.”

She groaned in annoyance as he stepped over to her, kneeling in front of her. He kissed her softly on the lips, then moved towards undressing her.

“Let me know if it hurts, okay?”

She nodded, and he reached for the bottom of her shirt, slowly and tenderly pulling it over her head. She flinched a bit as her arm moved on the injured side, but by then it was already off. Then he removed her bandages, and he took a moment to look at her injuries, really look at them, for the first time without anything in the way.

The mark where it had grazed her looked bad, even after the stitches, but Arthur knew that wasn’t really the problem. The problem lay beneath the two small holes in her side, not even as big as the tip of his finger. Carrington had said her ribs were fine, and she hadn’t punctured anything vital, but only just barely. If the bullet had been any larger or more explosive, or if they hadn’t gotten a stimpack into her, she probably wouldn’t have made it. As it was, she was going to be bruised and sore for quite some time, and, having lost so much blood, tired for even longer. Gently he traced beside the wounds, careful not to press too hard or catch anything. He’d come so close to losing her. 

He must have been frowning hard, because he felt her hand beneath his chin, tilting his face towards hers gently.

“I’ll be okay, Arthur. I’m not going anywhere.”

She gave him a small smile, then leaned in to kiss him, her teeth pulling gently on his bottom lip. As she caressed his face, he let her slip her tongue past his lips in a long, languid kiss. 

“I’m gonna need your help to shower, okay? Then you can carry me to bed.” She nuzzled into his neck as he hugged her as gently as he could. “Promise I’ll let you take care of me as long as you want. However you want.”

He smiled at her words, helping her to stand and sliding off her pants. Even pale, wounded, and covered in blood, he looked at her standing there in her lacy underwear and bra, and couldn’t help but think how damn lucky he was to have her. More so when she leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his waist, her tender skin pressed against him. Slowly, he trailed his hands up her back, unhooking her bra and letting it drop to the side, then moved to slide her underwear down her legs. As she lifted her feet, one at a time, she rested her hands on his broad shoulders to brace herself. Kneeling there, despite the fact that she was hurt, and this was probably the least sexy situation they could be in, he couldn’t help but feel that there was something incredibly intimate about it, and a little arousing. 

He breathed in deeply, his face against the outside of her leg, before turning his head and placing gentle kisses on the inside of her knees. Then, slowly, he worked his way upward, along the inside of her thighs, then over each of her hips. His tongue traced the line of her hipbone and down along the curve of her stomach to the opposite side before placing an open mouthed kiss just above her pelvis. She moaned quietly, squeezing his shoulders, wishing his mouth would move lower, to the hot, wet line between her thighs. It wasn’t right, god, it wasn’t right to feel that way just then, but he had a way of drawing that part out of her, no matter what else was going on.

When he stood up in front of her, pulling off his shirt, she wanted more than anything to have the energy to pull him against her, kissing him with all the passion she felt for him. She wanted him to press her back against the shower wall, lift her around his waist with all the strength she knew he had, and fuck her hard underneath the steaming shower.

Instead, she settled for unfastening his pants and starting the process of pushing them down for him, then admiring his form as he moved to turn the shower on. Sweetly, he put a low stool beneath the running water for her before lifting her and carrying her to it, then helping her wash the blood from her body. Using her arm on the uninjured side, she did her best to help him, but mostly she just kept touching him as he washed, running her hands over the parts of his body she could reach. When she was able, she kissed his skin, once more wishing she had the energy for something besides just watching him.

The love she felt for him, sometimes it was so strong it threatened to overwhelm her, like now. The way he was so kind, so tender as he dried her, lifting her into his arms to carry her to bed, made her feel completely unworthy of him. No one had ever treated her the way he did, like she was the most important person in the world. As she looked at him, she realized that maybe he treated her like that because to him, she was, and the idea made her giddy. Not that she didn’t feel the same way about him. In fact, maybe that was exactly why it made her so happy. For the first time in her life, she was in a relationship with someone who valued her as much as she valued them.

When he laid her tenderly in bed, she kept her arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her. It was another soft, slow kiss, as she tried to pour into it all of the feelings she couldn’t put in words. He seemed to understand, though, smiling and caressing the side of her face. He put his forehead against hers, kissing her again, then sighed deeply.

“You scared me half to death, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur. But it serves you right, you know. Mr ‘I’m taking my helmet off in the Glowing Sea’.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly bleeding out all over the floor, white as a ghost with my eyes rolling back.”

She ran her hand up his arm, cupping the back of his head.

“God, I’m sorry. I-“

“Shh. It’s all right now. You’re here, and that’s good enough.”

He climbed into bed beside her, holding her body close. This world was new and different, full of things neither of them really understood. But they had each other, and as long as they were together, they’d be happy.


	27. An Unexpected Diversion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this chapter.

“So how’s our little invalid doing?” Deacon asked as he walked through the open door. “She still laying in bed?”

“No, Deacon,” Ezra answered as she came out of the bathroom. “I’ve graduated to the couch. God, I wish I could just get out there and DO something.”

“No dice, Ez,“ he replied. “Carrington said two weeks rest, minimum. After that you can head out again.”

She folded her arms, sitting on the couch and pouting. She didn’t like being stuck doing nothing, especially not when there was so much that still needed doing. Tom had already decoded the courser chip, and she knew they needed to get back to Virgil as soon as they could. Otherwise there wouldn’t be much of a point. At least this time, they knew exactly where they’d be going, so it would be faster, and hopefully less dangerous.

“But I got stimpacks!” She whined. “I’m healed, only some scars!”

“Ez, we talked about this,” Arthur groaned. “Your body may have healed the injuries, but you lost a lot of blood. You could try doing things, but you’re gonna get tired easy. You really wanna pass out in the middle of a fight against a deathclaw?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, making Deacon laugh. 

“I dunno, boss. I say let the deathclaw have her.”

Arthur sat on the couch, turning a little sideways to let Ezra lean against him, while Deacon slipped beneath her feet. As she settled between them, they shared a look. The time she’d been out of commission so far had been- interesting, to say the least. Despite her promise to let Arthur take care of her for as long as he liked, she’d started complaining as soon as he’d gotten a couple more stimpacks into her, and hadn’t let up since then. Deacon had been playing messenger boy, relaying information from the Railroad and the Minutemen, to try and help her feel better, but it wasn’t going that great. The truth was that there really wasn’t much to do. Her Minutemen had the Commonwealth taken care of, the Railroad had the courser chip decoded, and they’d agreed to all go see Virgil again together.

“I’m just not good at doing nothing,” Ezra grumbled. “I want to be out there, helping, planning, anything! There’s gotta be something?” She looked at Deacon, pleading. 

“Ez, c’mon. There’s nothing I can do!”

She looked between the two men, her eyes wide and face pulled into an exaggerated pout. For good measure, she even whimpered a bit. Deacon looked from her face to Arthur’s.

“Well, Arthur, you guys have made the Commonwealth pretty safe . . . and the longer we sit on that data, the less likely it is it’ll work.”

Arthur’s face twisted in thought. “I know, but I don’t want her to tire out too soon.”

“Well, what if we take a different way? Since we know where Virgil’s cave is, we can head as far down as possible outside of the Glowing Sea, then over. Instead of a Power Armor, we can use meds and hazmat suits,” Ezra said hopefully.

Arthur shook his head. “Hazmat suits won’t provide enough protection.”

“What if I could get ahold of some heavily modded suits? Maybe not hazmat, but I think I know a place I can get some suits that might do the job. Lead lined, ballistic weave, and I maaay just be able to get some stealth thrown in.”

Arthur could practically feel Ezra’s excitement building the more Deacon talked. Though he’d have rather waited, he had to admit, it would be a relief to have it over with. Especially since it might pacify Ezra for a little while.

“Alright. How long do you need?”

Ezra threw her arms around him, kissing him passionately, while Deacon grinned.

“Less than twenty-four hours.”

True to his word, Deacon returned with three odd, grey jumpsuits, coupled with matching hoods and masks, by late that evening. As he passed them out, Arthur and Ezra held theirs up, with Ezra bursting out in raucous laughter.

“Oh. My. God. Deacon, this is . . . .”

“Ridiculous,” Arthur finished. “I really gotta wear this?”

“No,” Deacon said, “but if you don’t, you’re staying here.”

Grumbling, Arthur headed up the stairs to the bed, leaving Ezra and Deacon looking at each other. Ezra raised her eyebrows, then leaned towards Deacon.

“Is this REALLY the best thing you could find, Deacon? I’m not complaining- I just KNOW Arthur’s not gonna appreciate the snug fit.”

Deacon put his hand over his heart. “You wound me, Ez. Of course it was the best I could find. It’s not my fault your boyfriend’s built like a train.”

“Sure, Deacon. The fact that he’ll find it slightly humiliating is purely accidental.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe that’s a bonus.” He hurried to reassure her. “It’s not like I think I stand a chance at sweeping you away or anything, honest. I’m fine how things are, and I think he’s a great guy. You two are clearly happy together. It’s just . . . well, maybe I can’t resist a little revenge when it falls in my lap.”

Ezra gave him a wry smile, then kissed his cheek. Deacon watched her disappear up the stairs completely before he settled on the couch with his hands behind his head. He’d spoken the truth when he’d said he was fine with how things were. They were a great couple, they were happy, and he was . . . content, at least. But there were definitely times, like right now, when he remembered what had almost happened between them, and it made his heart ache, just a little. Maybe if they’d gone through with it, or it had never happened in the first place, it’d be easier. But having those memories of her- the taste of her mouth, her hips rolling against his, the incredible sounds she’d made as he slipped his hand between her legs- it was like being left dangling over a cliff, and everything you want is right there beneath you.

He rolled to his side, trying to shake the thoughts from his head. The last thing he needed right now was to fall into a pit of longing and self pity. Things were good. He had two great friends, a sometimes almost home, and they were about to have a way into the Institute. He couldn’t be better.

Still, as he fell asleep, he couldn’t help but wonder.

The next morning, as Arthur and Deacon struggled to get into their jumpsuits, Ezra couldn’t stop laughing. If it had been something looser, like one of her mechanic’s jumpsuits, it would have been easier, but these were very close to skin tight, especially on Arthur. Deacon seemed incapable of finding both armholes, spinning round in circles until Ezra helped him.

“Okay, I’ll admit it. The jumpsuits may not have been the best idea,” Deacon muttered as he fumbled with his.

“Oh, come on. They’re not that bad. See?”

Ezra turned around as both men looked up, showing them a full view of her in her suit for the first time. Their eyes went wide as they took her in, the sleek grey fabric squeezing her form, showing off every curve and dimple. As Deacon’s mouth hung open, the corner of Arthur’s pulled up in a goofy half smile.

“No. No, they’re good, Deacon.”

Deacon swallowed hard. “Yeah. Definitely good.”

With a devilish laugh, Ezra helped Arthur into his, and they double checked their supplies.

“Plenty of stimpacks? RadAway and Rad-X?” Arthur asked. “I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

“Yeah, we’re good, Arthur.”

He took the pack Ezra offered, slinging it over his back, and the three of them left for the Glowing Sea in high spirits. They had to stop to rest more often than they otherwise would have, but it seemed the walk was helping Ezra’s mood, at least. She was less apt to snap than she had been, happily joking around and smiling.

They were nearly at the edge of the Sea when the mother of all storms rolled in out of nowhere, drenching them with rain. With nowhere else to go, they headed to the first sheltered area they could find, which happened to be a strange cave someone had tried to make into a home of some kind. In addition to the mattresses lining the floor, there were several shelves filled with supplies, as well as strange plants growing from the walls and ceilings.

Deacon and Arthur used one of the mattresses and a couple of spare shelves to block the entrance, while Ezra sat on one of the mattresses to rest, examining the plants. As the night came on, she noticed that what she’d taken as some kind of fruit were in fact enormous flower buds, blooming into sweetly scented, glowing flowers.

“You guys ever seen anything like these?”

Deacon shook his head. “Never. I’d stay away from them, just in case.”

“Look almost like Morning Glories, don’t they, Ez? But these here bloom at night instead.”

Ezra pulled Arthur down beside her. “Don’t touch it, like Deacon said. We don’t know what they are.”

He nodded, settling down beside her. After a few minutes of chatting, Ezra started pulling at the collar of her suit.

“You okay, Ez?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “just a little hot. Is it just me?”

“Definitely not,” Deacon replied, unfastening the front of his suit and fanning himself.

“It is pretty hot,” Arthur admitted. “Probably these damn suits ain’t helping.”

With that, he stripped his off, laying it across one of the shelves to dry. Deacon and Ezra shrugged, then followed suit, leaving the three of them in the dim cave in their underwear. Without the sticky suits, it did feel much better, allowing them to lay down to rest. The soft, blue glow of the flowers soothed them, and soon they slept.

Ezra didn’t know how long she’d slept, only that she woke up with a strange tingling sensation on her skin. It wasn’t unpleasant at all, in fact quite the opposite. It drew the same chills across her skin that she got when Arthur was paying her special attention in bed, letting his hands and lips ghost all over her skin. Soon, she felt the buds of her nipples hardening beneath her bra, and a growing ache between her legs.

She glanced briefly at Deacon, who seemed to be asleep, though it was difficult to tell in the low light, and then turned to lean into Arthur’s chest. Running her hands across his broad muscles, she kissed the hollow of his throat, sucking the skin gently. His sleepy moan was the only encouragement she needed to continue, and her hand slid downward, following the thick trail of hair that disappeared into his boxers. As she lightly brushed her hand across the space between his legs, she found he was already hard, fully erect and waiting for her.

Without a word, he pushed her onto her back, grinding himself against her with a hungry growl. His mouth latched onto her neck, sucking a dark bruise against her skin while she writhed beneath him, gasping. Breathless moans hung in the air, heat growing stronger. Thick fingers tore at her bra as his mouth searched desperately for the sweet of her breast, his teeth scratching at her tender flesh.

Her hips bucked against him wildly, frantic for his touch, needing him to fill the wet heat between her thighs before she lost herself to the craving. He answered by snatching off her underwear, pressing her thighs open wide. Another sweet bruise was added to the collection on her throat as he pushed two fingers inside of her.

“So goddamn wet,” Arthur moaned, flicking his tongue across her nipple as his fingers pumped inside of her. “Fucking dripping around my hand.”

He curled his fingers upward, a sharp, gasping cry coming from her as she felt herself suddenly on the precipice of ecstasy.

“Yes . . . god, yes . . . just like that . . . ,” she moaned.

Her eyes fell on the spot where Deacon had been asleep moments ago to see him sitting up with his back against the wall. His eyes were locked on the figures in front of him, watching the way Ezra’s breasts bounced with the rhythm of Arthur’s hand, the way Arthur’s mouth traveled across Ezra’s skin. His cock was exposed, rigid inside of his hand as he pumped it’s length, lip held fast between his teeth. With a dark smile, Ezra opened her legs wider, turning towards Deacon. Immediately, his tongue flashed across his lip as his hand sped up. 

Arthur glanced upward, following Ezra’s gaze to Deacon. Slowly, he changed positions, until he was seated behind her, his legs spread on either side. He caught Deacon’s gaze, then began pouring kisses along her neck and shoulder, his hands locked beneath her knees and pulling them wide. Ezra leaned to kiss the side of Arthur’s face, then whispered something in his ear. When he gave a single nod, Ezra turned her seductive smile towards Deacon. To his great surprise, she beckoned him forward. 

He crawled towards her, head down, submitting himself to her whim. Her hand grasped the back of his neck, gently guiding his face, until he was buried in the scent of her, her sweet slick pressed to his lips. He lapped against her eagerly, tracing her folds with his tongue, wrapping his lips around the delectable swell of her clit and sucking until she whined with pleasure. Everything about her was perfect.

“Fuck, Ez. You taste so fucking good.”

“Don’t she, though?” Arthur growled as he played with her breasts, his mouth against her neck. “Wish I could bottle it.”

She tried to laugh, but Deacon wrapped his mouth around her again, and it became a deep groan instead. Soon her hips were jerking up against him, frantically searching for release. He slipped two fingers inside, curling them against her front wall and stroking as he looked up at Arthur.

“How many time you think we could bring her to the edge before she breaks?”

“You bastard, don’t you fucking dare! Don’t . . . don’t you . . . don’t . . . .”

He sucked her into his mouth again, his tongue drawing tight circles as his fingers worked inside of her, and the next thing she knew a blinding pleasure was rocketing through her body, Deacon’s face between her legs and Arthur’s hands on her breasts. Her entire world shrank to that bright white bliss, so intense she could hardly believe her body could contain it. She felt as if it was exploding out of her, washing over anyone or anything nearby, drowning it, destroying it.

When she finally came down from the incredible high, Arthur was still holding her against his chest, stroking her hair, while Deacon placed soft, tender kisses along her hip and thigh. Both men were still fully erect, and she was surprised to find her own heat growing again. She leaned to kiss Arthur sweetly, then moved to do the same to Deacon. Both men moved to their knees, locking her between their bodies as their hands and mouths explored her. She wrapped a hand around each of them, stroking them slowly as they moaned against her skin. 

“How lucky am I? Two handsome men, both showering me with affection, bringing me all the pleasure I could wish for?”

“Ez, honey,” Deacon whispered as he kissed his way down to her breast, “trust me, we’re the lucky ones.”

Arthur moaned in agreement before crashing his mouth against hers, tongue searching the sweetness of her mouth.

“Oh hell yeah. Luckiest men in the goddamn Commonwealth.”

Smiling, Ezra pushed Arthur to sit down. As she leaned to take him into her mouth, she pulled Deacon behind her, rubbing her ass against his cock in invitation. He gave Arthur a questioning look, and when he got a nod, he pushed himself inside of her. 

She was wet hot velvet around him, so good he was almost afraid to move. When he didn’t, she took charge, rocking her hips and clenching herself around him while she sucked Arthur’s cock. Soon, he took over, slamming his hips against her in a steady, almost punishing rhythm. With every thrust, Arthur’s cock was forced down the back of her throat, until the sound of flesh meeting flesh was nearly drowned out by the chorus of moans from the three of them.

Deacon felt his finish building hot inside of him, despite his desire to make the moment last, and abruptly pulled out to reach between her legs. Instead, she turned to face him, pushing him on his ass as Arthur grabbed her hips. She kissed him roughly as Arthur pushed inside of her, then leaned over to suck his thick, dripping cock into her mouth. He’d thought it felt good to fuck her, but it was nothing compared to the skill she had with her mouth. She drew him to the precipice again and again without letting him fall over the edge or into frustration, until he saw stars from the absolute pleasure.

Finally, almost simultaneously, both men withdrew from her, moving to their knees around her again. As Arthur stroked her, Deacon pumped his fingers inside of her, all while her hands were busy working them to their own orgasmic bliss. They both seemed so eager to please her, so willing to do whatever it took to make her happy. Kissing each of them in turn, she pushed them to lie down as she sat between them, stroking them both at the same time. The look of pleasure on their faces enchanted her, so much that she was tempted to prolong things. Instead, she pumped harder, faster, as the men she cared for so much arched beneath her grip. They both came hard, streaking their release across her hands and thighs as she moaned with happiness.

Arthur was the first to sit up, pulling her face to his to kiss her thoroughly. Although he couldn’t quite find the words to say it, she’d never looked more beautiful to him than she did right then, exhausted and happy, and covered in his and Deacon’s cum. Deacon didn’t seem to have the same trouble, however.

“Goddammit, Ez. You look so fucking good painted with our cum like that.”

Arthur hummed his agreement. “It ain’t gonna feel too good if we don’t clean it up soon, though.”

As much as they wanted to leave it, it was a good point, so Ezra laid down while the two men scrounged some fabric to wipe her clean. When they were done, they settled down on each side of her, and she moved to snuggle between them. They shared a quick glance across her, then Deacon wrapped his hand around her hip.

“Don’t even think about it, boss. We’re not done with you yet.”

She raised an eyebrow, and Arthur pressed his face into her neck.

“Oh hell no. There’s a lot more pleasure we can wring out of you yet.”


	28. Building the Future

Morning’s golden rays peeked into the cave, with no sign of the flowers from the night before other than the fruit like buds. When Ezra woke, she was still sandwiched between Arthur and Deacon, without a stitch of clothing, and more than a little sore. Memories of the previous night flooded her brain, and a deep flush crawled into her cheeks. It had been . . . well, it had actually been fantastic. She’d never felt that much uninhibited pleasure, and knowing that it all came from the two men she cared about most had made it even better. Still, she wasn’t sure how they would feel. At the moment, Deacon was spooned behind her, face pressed between her shoulder blades while his hand rested on her thigh, and Arthur’s arm was beneath her head, her hand resting on his chest. Soon, they would wake up, and, despite her hopes that it would be a nonissue, one or both men might be angry.

Despite her anxiety, when they woke, nothing was said at all. They simply dressed and acted as if nothing had gone on. If it weren’t for the marks on their necks and the soreness between her legs, she’d swear she’d just dreamed it. 

By the time they got to Virgil’s cave, she was beginning to wonder, anyway, but when he provided them with the plans he’d promised, everything else fell aside. A signal interceptor- something to allow them to hijack the molecular relay’s signal, putting them inside of the Institute.

“I make no guarantees- you understand that, right? I won’t promise it’ll work, or that you won’t be killed using it. And . . . there’s one more thing. I notice the three of you tend to stick together. That’s good- in the Commonwealth. But only one of you can use the signal interceptor. It’s not strong enough to carry more than that, and the smaller the person, the more likely it’ll work.”

Arthur and Deacon exchanged a glance over Ezra’s head, knowing exactly where this was going to go. There was no way they’d be able to convince Ezra to let one of them go, not with that warning hanging over their heads. But the thought of letting her go alone, without knowing anything about what she’d face, scared the hell out of them. Arthur couldn’t even focus on the rest of the conversation with Virgil. The only thing he could think about was how he’d just, finally, found the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and now he might lose her forever.

None of them said much on the way home, too focused on what was to come. Ezra’s mind was humming with possibilities. What she wanted to know most was within her reach- she only had to live long enough to find out. Hopefully it would be as easy to leave, but she knew there was no guarantee, which would make convincing the others to let her go a lot trickier. She decided to face it head on, just as soon as they got home.

The door had barely closed behind them when she rounded on them.

“You guys realize that I’m going, right? End of story. There’s no convincing me otherwise. Virgil said the best chance of success is the smallest person, and I’m the one dead set on knowing, anyway.”

“I could lose some weight?” Deacon volunteered, only half joking. “In all seriousness though, Ez, I think we both knew it would come to this. Hell, even if he’d said the biggest, you’d still want to be the one going.”

He walked to Ezra, pulling her in a tight hug.

“Look, this really isn’t my business, and Des is gonna wanna know what’s going on, so I’m heading out. I’ll just . . . leave you guys to it.”

Awkwardly, he let himself out, leaving Arthur and Ezra alone to discuss things. A part of her wished he’d stayed. Partly because she knew he cared, and she cared about how he felt, too. Mostly, though, because she was afraid of the lengths Arthur might go to in order to protect her. It was no secret that he’d always been unfortunate in love, and she couldn’t blame him at all for wanting to keep her safe. But this was her party. She NEEDED to know what happened.

“Ez . . ,” Arthur started, and she ran into his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but I have to. I love you, but please understand that.”

He stroked the back of her head, sighing. “I do. I knew it would be this way, and, well, I ain’t gonna say I’m okay with it, but I’ve accepted it, anyway.”

She looked up at him, and he took her face in his hands.

“I love you more than I thought I’d ever love anybody, Ez. When I first got outta that vault, I hated it. I hated everything the world had become, and the man I had to be.” He stopped for a minute, then leaned to kiss her forehead. “Then I met you. You get me like nobody ever has. And now, well, now I think that being stuck in that vault’s the best damn thing that ever happened to me. I want you to be safe, and I want you to be okay, but that determination of yours is one of the reasons I love you, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna hold you back. So you get in there, find out what you need to know. Then, you bring that perfect ass of yours right home to me. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I missed you.”

She laughed through her tears, pulling his face to hers and kissing him hard.

“I love you, you big moron.”

“I love you, too.”

Despite their hesitation, Ezra convinced Desdemona and Tom to meet her at the Castle a few days later, where she handed the plans over to Tom. He was a bit taken aback, but agreed that the plan looked sound, and would very likely do exactly what it was intended to do. 

“Good. We’re building it here,” Ezra told them, “and I need both factions to work together. The Railroad needs into the Institute, and this is the way, but it’ll be built under the eyes of the Minutemen. There’s nowhere to hide it, so we need the security the Castle provides, and some of the men can lend an extra hand. They trust me, and won’t ask questions.”

“It works for me, General,” Preston said, “but I’m not sure how they feel about it.”

Desdemona sighed. “I don’t like it, but you’re right. We need the security.”

“I’m glad we agree.”

From where he was scratching his head over the plans, Tom called out.

“Hey, uh, Ezra? You realize this thing’s only gonna work once, right?”

She glanced among the people gathered, her friends and companions, the people she cared about.

“Then let’s make sure it counts.”

From that moment onward, the Castle was a flurry of activity. Everything revolved around the signal interceptor, either building it, gathering supplies, or planning for the trip inside. Everybody wanted to be sure that they got the most out of it that they possibly could, in the event that she managed to get out but couldn’t get back. That included a special mission from Des, involving a secret operative inside of the Institute. They’d never met this person, only received synth after synth they’d sent to the surface. That was about to change.

“We need you to make contact. What they’ve done is incredible, but if we have a way to be in touch with them, we can do so much more. And . . . they may be able to help you, in the event . . . .”

“Yeah. I get it. I’ll do the best I can, I promise. It’s not lost on me how big this opportunity is. But I’ll be complete honest with you- my focus here is finding out what was done to us. I won’t give that up. I don’t expect there to be a conflict, but if there is, that will be my choice.”

Desdemona clearly wasn’t happy about it, but she didn’t complain. Likely because she knew Ezra’s personality well enough to know that if she’d tried to push, she’d be left out completely. Everybody knew exactly who’s show it was, and Ezra seemed to be thriving among it all. She bounced from place to place, assisting, directing, and organizing.

When they could, Arthur and Ezra made it a point to spend time together. Sometimes Deacon came, and sometimes he didn’t, otherwise occupied or just letting them have time to themselves. More and more, Ezra was beginning to see the three of them as a family, whatever that meant. She loved Arthur, she wanted him for the rest of her life, there was no doubt of that, but she felt that Deacon was an important part of their lives, too. He balanced out the most extreme parts of their natures, keeping everything in check, he provided lightness when things became too serious. 

The closer the interceptor came to completion, the more tense they each grew, worried for what would happen. Ezra wanted to assure them that she’d return, but, the truth was, she couldn’t be sure of it. All she could do was hope. Finally, when it was almost completed, Ezra felt like she had to say something. 

The three of them had spent the day together, goofing off around the Castle, trying not to think about it. Most of the preparations had been taken care of, and within the next forty-eight hours, Ezra would be leaving. They lay together in that huge bed, Ezra squished between them, and she took each of their hands in hers.

“I love you both, you know that, right?”

“Course we do, Ez,” Arthur answered, kissing her cheek.

“Yeah,” Deacon joined in, “I mean it’s kinda obvious.”

She sighed. “Is it, though? I know you know I care about you, but I mean I really love you. Both of you.”

Arthur let out a deep breath, pulling her body tight against his and kissing her temple.

“We do know. At least, I do.” He stroked the back of her hair. “I know you love me, more’n anything. You and me, we’re something special, and we always will be. But Deacon’s something special for you, too, and I ain’t gonna try and kill that. You love him, and he loves you, just like I do. It’s different than you and me, but it still matters.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss. Behind her, Deacon felt himself choking up.

“Arthur . . ,” he breathed, “I . . . I didn’t know you felt like that.”

Ezra knew by the heat on his cheeks he was blushing.

“Yeah, well, I do.”

“Don’t worry, boss,” Deacon joked, “I’m not gonna try to steal her away or anything.”

“I know that, you dumbass. Couldn’t even if you tried. But you’re part of this family, too.”

“Family. Huh.” Deacon shook his head. “Never thought I’d have one of those.”

“Yeah, well . . . I don’t wanna ruin this sweet moment, but there’s a reason I brought it up.” She cleared her throat. “I’m going in soon, and despite what we all hope, this all might go to hell and I never come back.”

“Ez . . ,” Deacon whispered as he pressed his face into her neck, “don’t talk this way.”

“I’m being upfront. I have no illusions about the possibilities, and denying it won’t change anything.” With a sigh, she continued. “What I wanted to say is that, if I don’t come back, I hope the two of you’ll look after each other. Not . . . romantically or anything- though, hey, if you feel the urge . . . .” She tried to laugh, but it fell flat. “I mean, keep each other from doing anything stupid. I know you’d miss me, both of you, but don’t go out getting yourselves killed or anything like that. Keep going, for me. Finish the work I started here in the Commonwealth.”

The tears were flowing freely from her eyes as she hugged each of them in turn, making them promise to take care of the other. Neither of them were willing to admit it, but they knew she was right. Rather than waste the time being sorry, they held each other tightly, trying to commit the feelings to memory. 

When it was done, there was no speech or ceremony, simply acknowledgement, and a few hours of preparation. Ezra knew that, despite her desire to know, if she hesitated too long she might second guess herself, so she went through the motions blindly and as quickly as she could. Both Arthur and Deacon helped, sharing the occasional worried glance across the top of her head. Still, they didn’t try to persuade her to call it off, knowing her well enough to know that wouldn’t happen.

As she stood on the platform, Tom ran through a list of last minute cautions and instructions, and she was handed a holotape. Her job, outside of satisfying her curiosity, was not only to make contact with Patriot, but also to copy as much information as possible onto the tape and bring it back. They were looking for any valuable information, whatever it was- a weakness, plans, contact information- something that would give them insight into the Institute and it’s true plans for the Commonwealth.

Ezra nodded, then turned to where Deacon and Arthur stood. In one swift movement, they threw their arms around her, the three of them locked in a tight embrace. Both men kissed her cheeks, her lips, anything they could reach as they whispered how much they loved her and begged her to take care of herself. She drew the same promises from them, and they let go of her. Just as she was about to nod for Tom to start it, she paused. Then, as everyone else looked on in astonishment, she leapt and threw her arms around Deacon’s neck, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss, and then did the same to Arthur. 

With a sad smile, she returned to the platform and gave the signal. At first, there was only a great deal of electronic static. Then, an explosion. Bright lights began to flash around her, sparkling like the snow Arthur remembered from his days in the old world. 

Then, in a single bright flash, she was gone.


	29. The Gates of Hell

Ezra materialized in a bright, tubelike chamber, leading to an area that, despite it’s obvious age, looked more cold and sterile than any hospital. The area was deserted entirely, though it seemed far too clean to be abandoned, and lead directly downward. With only one way to go, she headed forward.

Luck had favored her so far, and continued to do so. In the next area she entered, also empty of people, there was an open, easily accessible terminal, and she sat down to do the work she’d been presented. The first holotape, the one from Desdemona, was plugged in, sending an encrypted message to Patriot. While waiting on the reply, she plugged in the second, beginning the process of downloading a copy of any and every piece of information that could be accessed. As the seconds ticked by, she waited nervously. Any moment, she expected alarms to go off, or someone to enter to take her prisoner, or some mysterious puff of smoke to cause her instantaneous death. Yet nothing happened. It only put her more on edge than ever.

Suddenly a message pinged through, simple and blunt, directing her to a closet somewhere inside of the Institute. As the copying finished and she ejected the holotape, she hoped that meant she was safe, protected by the stranger within, or by some other unseen force. She had no idea how right she was.

The only way out seemed to be an elevator in the next passageway, and so she headed toward it. Her pistol was gripped tight in her hand, nerves causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. She couldn’t get over the feeling that, somehow, somewhere, there was something waiting on her that had nothing to do with Patriot. The longer she went unnoticed, the more certain she became, to the point she almost wished someone would jump out at her, just to get it over with.

As she stepped through the doorway in front of the elevator, she got her wish. A deep booming voice spoke through an unseen intercom, speaking in oddly soothing tones.

“Ah. Miss Ezra Noble, of vault 111. We’ve been waiting for you. Please, step into the elevator.”

She paused, looking around with her pistol at the ready. The voice spoke again, sighing dramatically beforehand.

“I assure you, we mean you no harm. If we wanted you dead, you would already be so. I believe you may have been . . . misinformed about the nature of the Institute. The elevator will bring you to me, where I will explain everything.”

With nothing to lose, Ezra stepped inside.

Meanwhile, Arthur and Deacon were doing their best to remain calm, assuring both themselves and each other that everything would work out. 

“She’s a smart girl, Deacon. She’ll get through.”

Deacon nodded, distracted by his own thoughts.

“Yeah. Yeah, boss. She’ll be fine. Our girl can get through anything.”

Their thoughts drifted as they sat inside their room at the Castle. Initially, they’d tried to keep themselves busy, working on weapons or crafting at the chem table, but when Arthur caused a small explosion, they decided it would be better if they took some time away. Nothing distracted them enough to take their mind off of it, anyway.

By midnight, they were lying awake in the bed they normally shared with Ezra, neither of them quite capable of sleeping. It felt strange without her body next to theirs, though not as terrible as sleeping alone would have felt. There was truth to the saying that misery loved company. Both of them took enormous comfort from the fact that they weren’t alone in their missing, their worry. There was someone who understood exactly how they felt.

Arthur cleared his throat.

“Deacon?”

“Yeah, Arthur?”

“You uh . . . you really think she’ll come back?”

Internally, he wasn’t sure. How could he be? No one, NO ONE, had ever even gotten INTO the Institute before. Sure, synths made it out, but they were SUPPOSED to be there. There was no way of knowing how they’d deal with trespassers.

“Yeah. Yeah, she’ll make it out. I’m positive,” Deacon lied.

“It’s just that, every minute she ain’t back, it’s less likely-“

“She’ll come back.”

“But if she don’t-“

“She’ll come back,” Deacon spoke through gritted teeth.

She had to.

Ezra stepped into a clean, sparsely decorated space, and was met by an elderly man, hair nearly as white as the lab coat he wore. He smiled warmly, and if she hadn’t known he was working for an organization she considered the enemy, she’d have taken him for a kindly old man, the sort who innocently teased kids in the park as they played. Or at least, who used to, before the bombs. He reached his arms out as if he were going to hug her, and she stepped back. He shook his head and lowered his arms.

“Of course,” he muttered to himself, before focusing again on her. “Forgive me, I’ve been anxious to meet you. We’ve watched you for quite some time, Miss Noble-“

“Ezra.”

“Yes, of course. Ezra. We’ve watched you for some time, Ezra, as you made your way through the Commonwealth. It was a bit of a surprise that you met another survivor, but not an unpleasant one. You and . . . Mr. Morgan, is it?” He looked at her questioning, but when she didn’t respond, he continued. “The two of you have made quite a team, picking up on every clue we tossed you, making it here in record time, I believe. It normally takes the vault dwellers several years before they make it down here. On occasion, we must retrieve them ourselves. They certainly had to come and get ME. I had given up on life completely.”

Confusion washed across Ezra’s face.

“You were a vault dweller?”

He smiled again, then chuckled like there was a joke she hadn’t been let in on yet.

“Of course. We all were. Every single director the Institute has had.”

He paused for a moment, then gave her another of those condescending smiles. She was beginning to get sick of them, ready to knock his teeth in if he didn’t just give her some answers, already.

“Forgive me again, Miss . . . Ezra. In my excitement I have forgotten my manners.” He held out his hand. “My name is Sean, though I am affectionately known here as “Father”, since it is my unspoiled dna that has been used in the production of our newest generation of synths. Formerly of vault 75, I am now the head of the Institute here, just as you will be, one day. Aside from your friend, you are the last vault dweller, and the future of the Institute lays in your hands.”

Two days later, Ezra wandered through the ruins of South Boston High School, taking out Raider after Raider. Though she’d been assured she could transport directly inside of the Castle, if she chose, she’d opted to head to a spot some distance away, instead. First of all, she didn’t like the idea of them having such a direct shot into the fortress of the Minutemen. Whatever happened, the factions, unless allied, needed some safety from each other. Second, she needed some time away from both areas to think, and killing some Raiders gave her the opportunity to work off some of the fury inside of her.

The fucking GALL. Vault-Tec, not only in bed with the Insitute back then, but planning out this fucking future! Toying with the lives of those who TRUSTED them. Holding them CAPTIVE, until they decided they were useful, then TESTING them, like some sort of training exercise. Which, really, it was. And she was just another toy. Another plaything, a pawn, expected to do as she was told. Fuck that. She had no love for the Institute, and she definitely didn’t see them as the benevolent savior that “Sean” did. And he’d been a goddamn child! Raised in a vault, tested, toyed with, modified- until he was the only one left. Fucking stupid. 

With the Raiders dead, she headed to the Castle at last, wondering all the while how things had gone while she was away. Had they decided already that she was dead, a casualty of her own curiosity? Or were they still waiting, with bated breath, to see if she had the answers everyone sought so desperately? 

She found out as she stepped through the gates, and, one by one, everyone stopped what they were doing. Silence fell as she approached the center of the Courtyard, where Preston stood, until he turned around to see her. Whatever he’d been holding fell from his hands as his shout echoed against the stone walls. 

“The General’s back!”

She couldn’t repress a smile as triumphant whoops rang out, the Minutemen celebrating her safe return. Hats were thrown, backs were clapped, and and overwhelming wave of applause began.

Then, in the distance, she saw a familiar pair of sunglasses. As Deacon ran towards her, he shouted Arthur’s name, calling him, telling him to come out.

“She’s back! Goddammit, Arthur, she made it back!”

He swept her into a tight hug, twirling her in the air before planting her firmly on the ground again. Then his hands were on her face, pulling her towards him to land a hard kiss against her mouth. Pressing his forehead to hers, he pulled her body flush against his, speaking in a breathless whisper.

“I missed you so fucking bad.”

The corner of her mouth twitched up as her eyes closed.

“Missed you, too.”

Then silence fell again as a giant shadow loomed across the two of them. She looked up to see Arthur standing there, eyes red, fists opening and closing in his awkwardness. Letting go of Deacon, she turned to face him, and he gave her a crooked smile.

“Hey.”

She chuckled softly.

“Hey yourself.”

Then she launched herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as he held her off the ground. Her hands were tight in his hair as she kissed him for everything she was worth, deep and wet and sloppy and wonderful. Tears spilled from both of them, but they could hardly care. As Ezra peppered his face with kisses, Arthur sighed contentedly.

“Goddammit I love you, Ez.”

Without another moment of hesitation, he turned, still carrying her, and headed towards their bedroom. All the information, the questions, it could wait. His woman had returned from the most dangerous place in the Commonwealth, and he was gonna fuck her so hard she couldn’t walk.

Clearly, Ezra had the same idea. The second they were out of sight, she pulled her t-shirt off, tossing it behind her, then reached to do the same to Arthur’s. She slipped out of his arms, pulling him down into a hard, passionate kiss before taking his hand to draw him down the hall. She stopped just outside of the doorway to shimmy out of her pants, then pulled the door closed behind them, careful to lock it. Then, as he looked on in astonishment, she stripped completely and laid out on the bed, propping herself on her elbows and spreading her legs wide. 

“Look good enough to eat,” Arthur growled, pushing his pants to the floor. “Think I just might.”

She threw her head back with a laugh. “Well, come on then.”

He stood at her feet, eyes dark with lust, then proceeded to crawl on top of her. As his body loomed over hers, the smile he wore faltered, and she cupped the back of his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Scared me half to death, Ez. I thought I’d lost you. I know it weren’t your fault, but . . . .”

He pressed his face into her neck, letting her stroke his back soothingly. She felt the wet of tears against her neck, rolling down her shoulder as quiet sobs wracked his body. All she could do was hold him close, desire temporarily forgotten. She was glad of it, the solid weight of his body, his warm, reassuring arms, even his worry. He loved her, it was as simple as that, and nothing had ever made her happier.

She moved to take his face in her hands, pulling him in for a series of tender kisses.

“There’s a lot to say, and I’ll get to it eventually. But right now, I need you, Arthur. I need your love, your body, your everything.”

“It’s yours,” he breathed. “Always.”

Kisses once again turned to passion, her desperate, pleading gasps heating his blood as he pushed inside of her. He wanted her, he needed her, just as much as she needed him. As their bodies twined together, pleasure engulfing them, he knew he wanted her to have all the love, all the happiness in the world. She deserved that, and more.

As they lay together in the afterglow, Arthur squeezed her fondly, kissing the top of her head.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” She sighed, leaning against his chest.

“This.” He gestured to the bed. “For making time for just you and me.”

“Of course.” She leaned over him to plant a kiss on his chin. “Listen, I love you, and I love Deacon, too, but you’re always gonna have me, first and foremost. I appreciate you making space for Deacon, but if you hadn’t, nothing would change between us, Arthur. Nothing. And Deacon knows that, too.”

“Speaking of,” he grunted, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, “I better go get him. I know he’s probably out there dying to see you. Don’t wanna make him wait anymore.”

Before she could say anything, Arthur slipped on his pants and headed out the door. Ezra lay back on the bed, thinking about the existence she’d had before the bombs, the loneliness and depression, and the information she’d just gotten. Then, she thought about Arthur, and Deacon, and the fact that, finally, she had a life that made her happy. She wasn’t about to let that slip away.

“Well, look at our girl, lying there all naked and sexy,” Deacon said. “Though I gotta admit, I’m a little sad I missed the first round.”

“Yeah, well there’s some things just for me and her, Deacon.”

He held up his hands.

“Don’t get me wrong, I respect our little arrangement completely. Got nothing against the two of you having a little time alone. Honestly, I’m just glad to be a part of things.”

He sat on the bed beside Ezra, leaning down to kiss her. She met him halfway, propping up on her elbow, and, in the process, uncovering one of her breasts. After disentangling his tongue from hers, Deacon leaned further, brushing his lips against it gently. Throwing her head back, Ezra moaned in satisfaction.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” Deacon breathed, his palm covering her breast. Then he glanced towards Arthur. “So, per our agreement, you’ll be participating?”

“Damn right,” he replied, taking his pants off once again and slipping beneath the sheet. “Don’t mind sharing- Ez deserves everything she can get. But I’m too damn jealous to let you have her alone.”

Ezra’s eyes grew wide as a stuttered laugh rolled out.

“Wait- so you guys made an agreement?”

“Mmmhmm,” Deacon hummed as his mouth moved against her neck. “I get to sleep with you anytime you’re up for it-“

“As long as I’m there, too,” Arthur finished, mirroring Deacon’s kisses on her neck and the way he cupped her breast. “And I’m fine with you two being involved-“

“As long as I respect that you two are committed to each other.” Deacon finished this time, slipping his shirt from his shoulders. “And as long as I understand that this is all about you.”

“Me?” Ezra gasped. She could barely focus, their mouths and hands wandering over her body, finding every spot that sent her pulse racing and heat pooling between her legs.

“Yep,” Arthur said as he traced her nipple with his tongue. “Want you to have everything.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Sparky.” Deacon had shed his pants, and his hand was sliding up the inside of her thigh. “You deserve all the pleasure . . ,” his finger was tracing the line of her now, punctuating his words with pressure against her swollen clit, “ . . . all the love . . . that . . . you . . . can . . . get.”

Ezra moaned again, relaxing back onto the bed as her two favorite men carried her away on a cloud of bliss. If heading into the Institute brought about this heavenly arrangement, it had been more than worth it.


	30. Double Dealing

Ezra woke happily tucked beneath Arthur’s chin, with Deacon curled behind her. It was still new and strange to her, this arrangement they’d worked out, but she certainly wasn’t complaining, even if it DID make her feel a little selfish. Then again, she hadn’t come up with the idea in the first place. Sure, she’d hoped they’d find a way to settle things while she’d been gone, so there was no more frustration or jealousy, but she’d never once thought that their solution would be to share her.

Deacon stirred slightly behind her, planting his hand on her hip and kissing the back of her neck as he mumbled morning greetings at her. Meanwhile, Arthur snored softly above, only waking as she moved to lie on her back. Simultaneously, they leaned in to kiss her cheeks, making her laugh softly.

“You two are something else, you know that?”

Arthur nuzzled into her neck. “That a bad thing, Ez?”

“Not at all. Just . . . surprising. I expected you guys to agree to get along for my sake, but not to this extent.”

“I mean, I’m kind of a pervert, anyway,” Deacon said. “Watching you guys that night on the way to see Virgil was super-hot.”

“Yeah,” Arthur added, “I gotta admit, I liked showing you off. Never thought I’d be into that kinda thing, but . . . damn. That was a good night.”

Ezra’s eyes widened. “Now I’m REALLY stunned. I thought you guys were pretending that didn’t happen.”

“We did for a bit,” Arthur said as he stretched.

“But I kinda mentioned offhand that I wished we could just do that all the time. And then Arthur said ‘well, why can’t we?’, so we agreed we’d try it. Provided you were good with it, of course.”

“And obviously you were.”

Arthur finished by pulling her onto his chest, placing kisses all over her face and making her laugh. 

“Well, we’d better get dressed and go meet everyone,” Ezra sighed. “While last night was a fantastic distraction, I’ve got a lot of information we need to go over. You guys won’t believe the shit that went down.”

Thirty minutes later, Ezra, Deacon, and Arthur were seated with Desdemona, Ronnie, and Preston, all six huddled together deep in the stone room underground. Still, they spoke in low whispers, afraid they’d be overheard.

“So you’re saying Patriot is one of the scientists INSIDE the Institute, sending synths out for us to rescue?” Desdemona seemed unable to comprehend it.

“Absolutely. He had no idea if you guys existed, or if you actually got ahold of them, but he hoped so. And now he wants to free a big group at once.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth the risk. An operation like that means we’d never be able to rescue more.”

“That may not matter. There’s a lot more to the story, and, for me, it only highlights the fact that the Institute has to go.” Ezra took a deep breath. “I told you they were in bed with Vault-Tec, and they were expecting me, that they were the ones who arranged for me to be let out in the first place, and that’s huge. But it’s WHY that’s the problem. They used the vaults as holding chambers, not just experiments. Inside each vault, there was at least one unspoiled human- signified by the tattoo on their neck. Each of those was held and released under specific circumstances, so that they could become the next director of the Institute. And once they were integrated fully, it was their ‘pure’ dna that was used to create the next generation of synths.”

A gasp went round the table. They knew the Institute had been pretty shady, but this was unbelievable. Then Preston spoke up.

“But General, that would mean-“

“I’m intended to be the next director, yes.”

There were several minutes of silence as the information sunk in. Ezra just sat, her hands folded on the table in front of her, trying not to let the seething rage she’d felt upon first finding out bubble back up to the surface.

“Well, General,” Ronnie burst in, “that’s good news, isn’t it? I mean, if you don’t like what they’re doing, but you’re in charge, you can change it.”

Ezra shook her head. “It’s not that simple. I met the heads of the departments, and quite a few of their subordinates. Most of them genuinely believe they’re doing the right thing for humanity- by essentially wiping it out. They think that if the surface world is populated with synths, but they control the synths, it’ll mean no more wars, and they get servants to build the surface as they want it, for whatever purpose they like. If I were to take power and try to change that, I would be ousted immediately. After watching me on the surface all this time, they’re already suspicious. I’m not like the others.”

“How’s that, boss?” Deacon asked.

“Well,” she replied, “to start with, I’m the only dweller that got chemical brain enhancement.”

Every voice cried out in unison, “What?”

“Every future director was trained in some way, at some point in their hibernation. I was slated to be the last to wake. That gave them time to perfect some of the more dangerous experiments, and, if I ended up not surviving, it was no enormous loss, no break in the leadership. Yes, it would be better if I survived, for the final round of synth creation, but it wasn’t essential. So, when they realized that certain areas of the brain could be enhanced by feeding certain chemicals in, slowly, during hibernation, I was the one they chose. That’s why it’s been so easy for me to pick up certain skills, and to figure out so many things so quickly.”

“Well what about me?” Arthur asked. “Where was my place in this? Why’d we come out at the same time, or thereabouts, anyway?”

Ezra twisted her lips. This had been a conversation she’d intended to have privately, later. She had no way of knowing how he or anyone else would take the news. But she couldn’t very well put it off without raising suspicion, and she wasn’t going to lie.

“You weren’t supposed to live.”

She took a deep breath as it hung in the air.

“The criminals they experimented on, none of them were actually intended to live. They were hosts for the various viruses and treatments they were working on. The FIV, the radiation resistance treatments. And . . . early biotech.”

It seemed as if the room had shrunk, darkening to just her and Arthur.

“You were injected with a molecular robotic treatment, intended to create the foundation for a new generation of biotechnology. Cells both robotic and living. I’m not sure exactly how it all worked, or what it was intended for. Honestly, I don’t think they really wanted me asking questions about it. I only know you were an ‘astounding anomaly’, as the guy put it, and survived. Rather than kill you and harvest it anyway, they opted to set you free, to see what would happen. It had never been intended to work that way, but if it proved useful, they hoped to find a way to reproduce it. It seems like it latched on to whatever your natural talents were and amped them up tremendously, whereas my treatment was targeted.”

Somewhere along the line, her hand had found his, squeezing it tightly as she finished. For a long time, Arthur sat there, stunned. Whether they, too, were stunned, or merely silent out of respect, no one else spoke, either. Then, finally, he looked at Ezra.

“They gonna kill me?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Like I said, they didn’t like me asking about it. I found out more from ‘Patriot’ than anyone else. But even if they try, they won’t. I won’t let them.”

She turned to look at everyone else, Arthur’s hand still held firmly in hers.

“Look, these bastards like to play with shit they don’t understand. They want to hide deep and pretend they’re god, but we’re not gonna let them. We’re gonna take them down, one way or another. I’ve got an in. I’m free to port in and out as I choose, as long as I pretend to be on their side. We’ve got a deep contact, we’ve got loads of info, and I’ll bring more as I can. They have to have a weakness somewhere.”

“If we’re bringing them down, I want to take the opportunity to free all of the synths. Every last one.”

“I’ve been in touch with a few, Desdemona, and there are plenty willing to fight if they have to. Which is good, because this isn’t gonna be easy.”

“Tom and I will head back with Deacon, and we’ll get our most experienced agents in to help plan this. When the time comes, we have to be ready.”

“We’ll stand behind you too, General,” Preston remarked. “And the Railroad is free to use our resources as they need.”

Desdemona thanked him, and they went over the few things they felt were priority before the meeting broke up. There were errands that needed running, for both factions, and Ezra would have to report back to the Institute soon, to avoid suspicion. On top of that, she had no doubt they’d soon be asking her to do things for them, as well. Balancing it all was going to be an enormous feat.

When she and Arthur were alone together in the room, Ezra shifted to put her arms around his shoulders, crawling into his lap. She said nothing, trying to give him time to let the new information sink in. Finally, he sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“You okay, Arthur?”

“I guess. I just ain’t real sure how to handle it. I mean, do I even count as human?”

“Of course you’re human!” She squeezed him tightly. “You just happen to have tiny robots living inside of you.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “Guess Tom was right.”

“Yeah,” she said, joining his laughter, “I guess he was.”

Ezra spent the next two weeks running back and forth between the Institute and the Castle, trying to take care of the errands that needed running. Though some of the Institute’s missions left a bad taste in her mouth, she carried through, knowing how important it was to keep them happy. Several of the lesser scientists had begun to trust her, giving her more errands to run, which she took as a good sign, but only one department head seemed to take to her. Then again, Holdren was young enough to retain a cheerful optimism about almost everything.

The worst part was how they had managed to infiltrate the Commonwealth in ways that they hadn’t even imagined. They thought that snatching people and replacing them with synths was the worst thing that could happen, but it went far beyond that. They did everything they could to track down the freed synths, and she’d seen firsthand what happened when they did. A code, what might sound like random nonsense to others, and the life left their eyes instantly. They stood, slumped, as good as dead, yet not dead at all. Beyond that, they used those who were replaced for more than just spying. She’d delivered genetically enhanced seeds to one such individual, meant to spread through the Commonwealth via the farm he ran. It had taken every ounce of self control she’d had not to shake “his” wife, screaming that he wasn’t who she thought he was. 

Worst of all, they treated humanity as if it were little more than pests, roaches scattering through the ashes of a world they deemed ruined. It wasn’t just the super mutants, or the ghouls, or even the Raiders. It was every single living person. The ones she’d come to know and care about, like Piper, Preston, and Deacon. And Nick, one of their own creations, and they’d tossed him aside like garbage. Well, when the time came, she wasn’t going to be merciful, not to the men and women who’d had their part in defiling the earth, then abandoned it. She would destroy their perfect little world, and they’d have to learn to live in hers.

She sighed. Life in this brave new world, as Nick had once put it, had given her a hard edge. Where once upon a time, in the past, she’d refused anything to do with guns, now she was a crack shot, though nowhere near as good as Arthur. She killed without flinching, even humans, when she had to. And she’d loot a decaying body without thinking twice. But it had made her softer, too. Seeing the way people had come together among the ruins of the world and built something new, looked after each other- it made her proud. 

And then there was Arthur, and now Deacon, too. Men who cared for her more than she’d ever been before, who would give their lives for her. They nearly had, once or twice. She could be herself with them, no matter what. For the first time in her life, she could let herself be completely, utterly vulnerable, and know without a doubt that she was safe. She wouldn’t give that up, not for anything.


	31. Protect What’s Yours

Ezra fastened her weapons on, checking and double checking them as Arthur looked on from the bed. She knew he hated that she was leaving, again, to run errands for the Institute, but he also understood how necessary it was. If she didn’t stay in their good graces, the plans they were working on would be a complete bust, and a lot more people were likely to end up dead.

When she was ready, he moved to stand in front of her, taking her hips in his hands and kissing her deeply. Deacon had said his goodbye a few days ago, before heading back to Railroad HQ, so it was just the two of them. Small things like that made Arthur happy, she knew, which was probably a big part of the reason Deacon had done it. He didn’t want to put the agreement they’d made at risk. Having them together, as a makeshift sort of family, meant the world to him. He hadn’t had anything like it in a long time, and, despite how unconventional it was, it worked. Ezra had even begun thinking about the future, and what life might be like when they’d removed the threat of the Institute.

This particular job, while hardly unsafe, carried its own set of risks. The Institute had provided her with the location of four runaway synths, and her duty was to return them. The trouble was that she was already well aware of the synths and their location, since Desdemona had radioed her earlier. Somehow, she had to protect the synths, letting them “get away”, without making the Institute suspicious. To top it all off, the Brotherhood of Steel had gone conspicuously quiet, and she suspected they’d heard of the whole ordeal somehow.

That was confirmed when she met her contact from the Institute just outside of Bunker Hill. All three factions were present, and, somehow, she had to make sure she didn’t piss off any of them. She was loyal to the Railroad most of all, but sticking to their mission meant keeping the Institute happy, at least for the time being. And, while she had no personal stake in the Brotherhood, she knew enough to know she didn’t want them as an enemy, not when there was a choice. Given their “distaste” for synths & the Railroad, they’d have to go eventually, but there was no point in trying to get multiple fires going at once.

The gunfire was continuous all the way through the market as Ezra swore aloud. Three different heavies from the Railroad almost shot her, and twice she’d had to identify herself as a friend to Danse. She carried her weapon in front of her, occasionally making a show of firing it, but for the most part avoided killing anyone. 

Then she found the synths. Four frightened beings, cowering, begging her not to hurt them. For fucks sake, she didn’t want to hurt them. 

“Listen, just . . . go. Head out, back towards the stairs, and look for the heavies with the big guns. They’ll get you where you need to go.”

She’d just begun to relax when she heard a dry, clinical voice behind her.

“Ma’am?”

Oh fuck.

Somehow, she managed to shoot the courser before anyone else showed up, then headed over to the C.I.T. ruins, where she was supposed to meet Sean, aka “Father”. The title still disgusted her, however apt it was. It gave her chills and made her think of her own father, a verbally and emotionally abusive piece of shit she’d gotten away from as quickly as she could. It might have been easy to blame him for her terrible marriage, but she’d made the choice.

She walked with weary footsteps up towards the roof of the ruins, ignoring the synth/super mutant fight surrounding her. More gunfire, more shouting. She’d killed her fair share of each, but today had already been too much, more death than she’d ever hoped to see in her lifetime, let alone a single day.

When she opened the door to the rooftop, Sean was standing near the edge, looking out across the Commonwealth with his hands held behind his back. From a distance, you might almost have called it a respectful stance, or maybe sad. 

“Sean?”

He scoffed quietly.

“I haven’t set foot out here, not since the day they brought me to the Institute all those years ago.”

She stepped slowly, cautiously towards him.

“I never felt a need. I . . ,” he stopped, then turned to her. “It confirms it, you know. There’s no hope for the world up here. The Commonwealth, the land before the war, it’s truly dead now. The only foreseeable future for humanity is below ground, with the Institute.”

“How can you say that?” Ezra asked. Tears were already beginning to choke her, closing her throat. “These people, all they’ve built- doesn’t it mean anything to you? They were given a wasteland, destroyed by people who would never deal with the outcome, yet they made a world in it. A living, functional society. And they’re still out there, trying to make it better, after two hundred years!”

Sean shook his head, turning away again.

“No. This- it isn’t life, it’s chaos. I’m only grateful that the Institute rescued me, sparing me a life out there.” There were several long moments of silence before he spoke again. “Bunker Hill. Your mission. It didn’t go well for us. Can you explain what happened?”

Though his words might have sounded understanding, there was an underlying threat to them that Ezra read clearly. She was supposed to prove herself, prove that she was committed, worthy of being his successor. And she’d failed.

“I couldn’t complete the mission. Too much interference. The Railroad, the Brotherhood- I’d expected one, but not both.”

“Yet you’ve dealt with similar problems in the past.” He turned to her, face a mask of deeply concealed rage, too perfect in its calm. “Given your past associations, they’re going to claim you sabotaged the mission intentionally. That you LET the synths escape. They are already suspicious enough, and this will only make it worse! Can you not see how badly this reflects on you, on US?”

That carefully tended facade cracked for a moment, revealing the true depths of his fury, his fears. And then it was gone, covered again by false calm, insincere understanding. A weary sigh pushed its way past his lips.

“It doesn’t matter. There are things in motion now that . . . well, you’ll see.” He turned his back to her, walking away. “I’m done here. There’s nothing more for me to see, and I have a meeting to attend.” He stopped, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I expect you to be there.”

Then, in a flash of blue light, he was gone.

Ezra didn’t follow him to the Institute immediately. She should have, she knew, but something about the fight earlier had settled deep in her gut, making her uneasy, and she needed time to clear her head.

As she stood on the edge of the rooftop, looking down over the ruins of the Commonwealth, all she could think about was how wrong Sean was. How wrong the whole Institute was, with it’s sparkling clean perfection, pretending it was self sufficient. It needed the surface world, whatever it thought. Human beings couldn’t just shut themselves away, pretending the things they didn’t like weren’t there. You had to build, to rely on each other. People thinking they knew better than others was how the world had ended up in the sorry shape it was in to begin with.

When she finally made it back to the Institute and up to the meeting room, every eye turned to glare at her. She’d made them wait, after all, and they weren’t to be trifled with. Rather than snap out her normal sarcastic comment, she chose to fold, sitting in the chair they’d left for her without a word, and keeping quiet as they spoke. And the longer they talked, the more the terror inside of her grew.

When Sean announced her official takeover as director of the Institute, she had as many objections as the others. She’d known it was the plan, but she thought she had a few months, at least. Maybe even years. Now, suddenly, he told her he was dying, and she was supposed to lead these people who trusted her about as far as she could throw a deathclaw. They were screaming, demanding answers, objecting, Sean was trying to maintain his calm, fatherly demeanor- and she just wanted to leave.

So she did. She slipped from the room, unnoticed among their arguments, and made her way to a dark corner to relay out of the Institute.

Though she knew it was a risk, she chose to relay not far from the Castle this time, unable to face a long walk and the death that might accompany it. She’d seen more than enough, and she was sick of it. All she wanted was peace, and Arthur’s warm arms to crawl into.

As she’d expected, he knew something was wrong the moment he laid eyes on her. Ronnie, Preston, and a couple of other Minutemen tried to approach her, but she paid no mind at all. Single-minded, she headed towards Arthur.

As she wrapped her arms around his waist, he held her tight against his chest, kissing her forehead.

“Hey sweetheart. Somethin’ wrong?”

“I don’t wanna talk right now. Just . . . hold me.”

Without another word, he scooped her into his arms, carrying her to their bed. He sat down, placing her between his legs, and did exactly as she’d asked. Even when she started crying quietly, he only held her, stroking her back, and waited. She’d tell him what was wrong when she was good and ready.

Before she got the chance, a knock came, and Preston’s voice came through a crack in the door.

“General, we’ve got a situation.”

After wiping her eyes on her sleeves, she went to the door and jerked it open far harder than necessary. Preston stumbled back slightly, stuttering a bit underneath her glare before he managed to get his message out. 

“I . . . uh, that is . . ,” he straightened his back. “We’ve got a civilian asking for help, out by Greygarden. I’m not real sure exactly what’s happening, but I think he said something about the Institute wanting to kidnap him.” With a quick glance at Arthur, he continued. “I know you’re going through something, ma’am, but we have to show the people that the Minutemen’ll be there for them.”

With a quick jerk of her head, she turned around to grab her guns. As soon as Garvey had gotten out of earshot, Arthur put a hand on her shoulder.

“You ain’t gotta go, if you don’t want. Garvey and them can handle it. Or, hell, I’ll go for you.”

“I know. But I’m going. I’m sick of this shit, sick of running around for everybody and doing what everyone asks, but I’m in it, now, and I’ll see it through. Whatever happens.”

He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, and then they were on their way. By the time they’d gotten to the Greygarden homestead, the Institute was already there, and so were a small group of Minutemen from nearby. Both parties assumed Ezra was there to help them. As she sighed in frustration, Arthur threw his arm around her, kissing her temple, and used the opportunity to murmur softly.

“Remember, this is your show. You do what you want, and I’ll be here to back you up.”

She listened to the Minutemen who’d appeared on the scene first, trying to calm them down. When she saw they were too agitated to see reason, she gave in, hoping to head in first as a “distraction” and get the scientists to see sense. Knowing they wouldn’t care to see him, but wanting to be ready to help Ezra, Arthur waited just outside the door, listening.

“Thank god you’re here, director. This . . . man here, he’s hysterical. He won’t listen to reason!”

“What do you mean?”

“I MEAN,” the scientist spat at her, “that he will NOT leave this dreadful hovel! We just want to take him to the Institute, where he’ll be safe.”

“Safe?”

It was more a question to herself than the scientist, though he started prattling on, answering it anyway, and she didn’t take in a word. She was too absorbed in her own thoughts. The Institute, their vision of the future? It wasn’t any better than the stupid way things had been before the war. The rich, the elite were protected, living off the sweat of the poor, taking advantage of their desperation. Greed, power, making people think they knew what was best. 

All of it, every bit, was shit.

Rage grew inside of her, a white hot ball of fury that consumed her senses, and she screamed.

Then she stabbed the scientist in front of her.

The other scientists screamed, trying to run, while Minutemen poured through the back door and synths teleported in to try and subdue her. The entire time, she just kept swinging and stabbing, ignoring the laser blasts that scorched her skin. Arthur burst through the door behind her, breaking it off its hinges, and she ignored him too, until every synth and scientist was either dead or gone, and she was covered head to toe in thick, wet blood.

Then she collapsed on the floor.


	32. Blindsided

The whole damn room was in shock. So quiet you could hear their worried breath, her ragged sobs as she shook on the floor, curled in a ball, wrapped around herself.

Nobody moved.

Then came Arthur, not even bothering to brush the splinters of the door from his shoulders as he dropped down beside her, taking her in his arms. Forget about the blood, about the knife she still gripped, like it was a part of her body. She needed him.

“Hey, Ez,” he murmured softly, “come on, sweetheart. Let me hold you.”

Somehow, he got her to let the knife go, passing it to the nearest minuteman wordlessly, and she gripped the front of his shirt instead, twisting it between her fingers like it was the only thing keeping her steady. Her face pressed hard into his chest, soaking it with blood, with tears, as her body shook against him, suddenly oh so fragile. He looked to the nearest figure, gesturing them outside with a quick jerk of his head, and the room that had been full was left empty, except for them.

After several minutes of sobs that echoed through the house and felt, to Arthur, like an eternity, she spoke in a quiet voice.

“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep listening to them, acting like it was all okay while they do their best to fuck up the Commonwealth.”

“Shh,” he stroked her hair, “it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” She drew in a sharp breath, shaking her head. “I’ve messed everything up. They’ll never let me back in, and I can’t save the synths, or help take down the Institute.”

Cautiously, he let her go, taking her face in his hands. His thumbs ran across her cheeks, smearing the blood that wasn’t dry, and he looked into her eyes.

“Nobody’s gonna blame you. You took on more than you should’ve ever been asked to do, and you was strong as hell while you did. But you can’t hold a weight like that up forever. Sooner or later, you’re gonna break.”

“Wish I’d waited a little longer. I disappointed everyone.”

Arthur stood, pulling Ezra to her feet after him and lacing his fingers with hers.

“To hell with everybody else, then. They want it done, they can do it on their own. You need a break, sweetheart.”

Wrapping herself around his arm, Ezra looked up, opening her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a frantic figure pushing her way into the room.

“Ma’am, sir,” the woman exclaimed, breathless, “you’ve gotta get back to the Castle. Right now.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, throwing his free hand in the air.

“Goddammit, what the hell’s the matter NOW?”

“They’ve spotted enemies, sir. Someone means to attack.”

With a growl of anger from Arthur, both of them took off as fast as they could. By the time they reached the Castle, most of the blood on Ezra’s skin had dried and flaked off, Arthur was mad as hell, and both of them were out of breath. Ronnie stomped up to them.

“Synths around the perimeter. Must’ve gotten word of your little party at Greygarden already.”

Beside Ezra, Arthur was a menacing figure, unfurled to his full height, with his shoulders set hard. He wasn’t sure if he was angrier at the Institute for attacking, or at the Minutemen for not handling it on their own. Ez couldn’t even have a goddamn breakdown without some bastard stepping in to ruin it.

Suddenly her voice caught his attention.

“I’ll shore up the defenses, make sure everything’s in good working order,” she said wearily, as she shook the blood soaked flannel from her shoulders. “Make sure every man in the area’s here, ready to fight.”

As she turned to walk away, Arthur gripped her shoulder hard, holding her back.

“You gotta rest, Ez.”

Balling her hands into fists at her side, she shook her head. “I’ll be fine, Arthur.”

“You ain’t fine. Look at you, covered in blood, exhausted, upset. Take a damn minute!”

“I CAN’T!” Her shout was louder than she’d meant it to be, loud enough to draw attention as Arthur looked awkwardly around. When she spoke again, it was in a far more restrained voice. “Arthur, they’re gonna attack. They don’t give a shit about giving me a minute to breathe. Hell, for all we know the entire damn event at Greygarden was to draw us, or me, or whatever- to draw us away! We HAVE to do this. Everything is building, and it’s all gonna crash somehow, but we have to live, and fight, and do better than them! If somebody has to fall, it can’t be us, because if we fall, then I’ll lose-“

She didn’t finish, but he knew what she meant. 

Winning was the only way they’d ever have a life together.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Just tell me where you want me.”

She gave instructions, then checked and double checked every turret, every trap, every weapon. Just as they finished, the first synths came into view, and after that, they just kept coming. She didn’t know if the attack lasted minutes, or hours, or days- it felt like eternity. Men were lost, and more than once she thought she’d lost her mind in the chaos, shooting while tears streamed down her cheeks. But she pressed on, even when she felt like she couldn’t stand, and Arthur had to come stand behind her to watch her back.

Then it was done.

Suddenly, everything was quiet, still, like the world was holding its breath. 

Arthur looked around the courtyard, at the bodies littering the ground, and a profound sadness washed over him. Synths, Minutemen, viscera and steel- it mingled until you couldn’t tell which was which, and he figured that, in the end, it didn’t really matter. Existences had been snuffed out, just like blowing out a candle, in a fraction of a second. Some were still holding on, but they wouldn’t make it long, not with the damage done. He’d thought when he woke up that, on so many levels, the world was a different place, two hundred years of change in the blink of an eye. But when you came down to it, it was all the same.

He sat on the ground behind Ezra, wrapping his body around hers as he pulled her into his lap, and kissed her softly on the cheek. Perfect, that was her. Thirty something years of life, a two hundred year sleep, and months of conflict and confusion, and then, suddenly, his life had changed. Because some damn fool in the past had been stupid enough to not only let her go, but leave her in debt. Because both of them were dumb and desperate enough to trust Vault-Tec.

Because she’d walked around that specific corner in Concord at that specific time.

Whether it was luck, coincidence, or divine intervention, it was the best damn thing that had ever happened to him, and he’d never be able to explain how grateful he was. No matter how long he had, no matter how hard he tried. But damned if he wasn’t gonna spend the rest of his life trying.

“I love you, Ez,” he whispered against her ear, barely containing tears. Her arms slipped over his, her forehead resting against his jaw.

“Love you, too.”

Amid the blood, the bodies, and the chaos, he held her, and, for a little while, it felt like peace.

Then came Deacon.

He tore into the courtyard, panicked like they’d never seen him before, and just as covered in blood as they were. Though they were at a distance, they saw him shaking his head, heard his frantic tones as Preston tried to calm him down, but they didn’t expect the news he gave them when they reached him.

“It was the Brotherhood. The Brotherhood of Steel. We didn’t know, we didn’t-“ he swallowed hard, shaking his head again before meeting their eyes. His distant gaze traveled between them, seeing but not seeing, as he continued. “There was almost no warning. Just a shout, and they were on top of us, in HQ, and then . . . .” His focus sharpened for just a minute as he stared at Arthur, then Ezra. “The Brotherhood found HQ. They attacked.”

There was a long pause as Arthur and Ezra looked at each other over Deacon’s head. They knew what was coming, but they still had to hear it.

“Almost everyone’s dead. Me, Carrington, Dez, DB, and Tom. We’re all that’s left.”

“Fuck,” cursed Ezra, while Arthur hissed under his breath. “Is . . . how are things?”

If the situation hadn’t been what it was, she’d have laughed at herself for the stupid question. Almost his entire organization, his friends, people who were the closest thing to family he’d had until she and Arthur had come along- they were all dead. What was he gonna do, smile and make jokes? Be his usual goofy, awkward self?

“We’re . . . as good as we’ll get,” he supplied. “They’re taking care of the-“ he drew in a sharp breath, “the bodies. Then they’re coming here. Hope that’s alright.”

She threw her arms around him, holding him as she tried to keep the tears from falling.

“Of course. We-“

She suddenly remembered what had happened earlier, at Greygarden.

“Deacon . . . I don’t know how to say this, but . . . I’m not in good with the Institute anymore. I took down a bunch of scientists, and we just managed to fend of an attack from them. I’m so sorry. I know Des will be upset, but-“

“Honestly, I think we’ve got more to worry about right now. Out whole operation just went to shit. Most everyone’s dead, we’re down to the lowest we’ve ever been, lower than after switchboard. She’s not gonna care.”

“Right. I . . . yeah. Hey, Arthur?”

He jerked his head up, eyebrows raised.

“Any chance you’d get some water ready, so we can all clean up?” He nodded, heading off to do as she asked, and as she lead Deacon slowly towards their room, she called to Preston over her shoulder. “Garvey, please get some bunks ready for our guests. Then double the guard, and you and Ronnie make sure every piece of equipment is in perfect order. One way or another, we’re ending this. As soon as possible.”


End file.
